


Dragonborne

by Paveffer



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Yuuri Shibuya, Background Adalbert/Flynn, Background Cecilie/Fanbalen, Conrad is full of Feelings and Angst, Everyone wants to adopt Yuuri, Genderfluid Yozak, M/M, The dragon AU nobody asked for, competent royal family, high-key conyuu but very little actual romance, wolfram is small and angry but he is trying So Hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 20:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 60,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13888452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paveffer/pseuds/Paveffer
Summary: By some machination, Yuuri is transported into the dragon infested wilderness of Shin Makoku as a child. With no way to return to his family, he raises himself and learns to wield his maryoku - events in the kingdom begin to transpire without him, and all is not as it should be. Years later, a scuffle leaves a certain half-human prince wounded on the doorstep of the Dragon Woods. Yuuri saves Conrad, plans good and evil begin to unfold... but how is a "wild" king supposed to survive among the nobility of Shin Makoku?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm moving this old fic from ffnet onto AO3 as well. I'm going to TRY to finish it since I've already sunk so much time into it. This thing is old though, seriously. It walked with the dinosaurs. 
> 
> For your nostalgic pleasure (?), I'll include some original authors notes. Baby-Paveffer was such a chatty author.

Yuuri Shibuya was six years old when his life changed forever. The day wasn't different from any other – Miko Shibuya was bathing her playful son in their home of Japan after a particularly messy dinner.

Her Yuu-chan could be quite picky when it came to food, and while he could be quite resistant when she tried to feed him, she knew he would warm up to her curry eventually.

"Mama, look, I'm a duck!" Yuuri laughed as he scooped his familiar rubber toy out of the bath water and imitated quacking sounds.

Miko chuckled at her son's silliness as her fingers combed through his hair, dislodging clumps of curry and other food that had gotten stuck after the wild feeding frenzy. Yuuri would often scream and resort to tantrums when it came to facing a food he didn't like. Miko knew she would have to start scolding him soon, but some part deep inside of her insisted on letting him stay a child for as long as he could. For she knew that within mere years, her son would leave her side to fulfill a great destiny.

"You sure eat like an animal!" Miko chided softly, causing Yuuri's cheeks to flush lightly. "Shori eats my delicious curry. And he does it without getting all of it stuck in his hair!" She rubbed in her fingers a bit harder to emphasize.

Yuuri pouted a bit at this, his duck lips unfolding into a frown.

"But I think curry is yucky, Mama." He replied, his childish face screwing in distaste as he remembered the flavor of the food that was currently dripping from his pitch black hair.

Miko feigned being shocked, her hand rising to cover her mouth as her eyes went as wide as dish plates, before throwing an arm over her forehead and swooning onto the bathroom floor.

"How could you, Yuu-chan…! My curry…!" Her voice echoed off the tiled bathroom walls.

Yuuri giggled and splashed a bit of water at his mother, before diving under the surface to scrub the grime off himself. She was so dramatic and silly, he couldn't help but adore her.

Suddenly there was a tug at his ankle, and Yuuri found himself pulled to the bottom of the tub. He hiccupped in suprise, but found the force holding him wouldn't let him rise to the surface of the relatively shallow pool of water.

Instinct kicked in as soon as panic did, and he found himself scrambling to pull his head above the bath water. The splashing of his flailing limbs seemed to form into a vortex around him, and suddenly he felt like he was in a much deeper abyss. The force kept pulling him down and down.

Yuuri let out a shrill scream as the cold hit him, but even then the force holding him did not let go. He choked out a sob for his mother, but the only sound he made was by the bubbles as they left his mouth and drifted to the surface high above, pale like ghosts.

The vortex around him stilled, and his vision faded to black.

"Yuuri?" Miko started, having not been on the floor but for a few seconds when she heard violent splashing. She rose to her knees and lunged for the tub, arm reaching in to help drag her son out of the water.

But she found nobody there, and her throat suddenly tightened with shock.

"Yuuri? Yuuri!" She crawled into the water, desperately looking for her child, even though it was not a large tub and there was only one place where he could have possibly gone.

_But no, it was too soon!_

"Miko?" Shoma Shibuya poked his head into the bathroom, his voice laced with concern. His face filled with alarm, however, when he saw his wife distraught and soaked, sitting in the still-filled tub where he was sure his younger son had been previously.

"Call Bob!" Miko shouted at her husband. "Our son has—My Yuu-chan-!"

 

* * *

 

Yuuri had learned to swim at a young age. His parents had insisted on it, and so Yuuri swam. It came as no real surprise to anyone when they discovered that Yuuri was quite the adept swimmer. His parents had been proud of him, and maybe he had allowed himself to feel a little proud of himself too.

But Yuuri wasn't thinking of any of this when his face broke the surface of the muddy water. He coughed and choked, his tired limbs paddling him to the closest shore as his body heaved in the air that had been denied to him for so long.

He crawled on all fours out of the spring, his face, body and hair freshly smeared with mud. His tired body collapsed into the tall grass, and he rolled onto his back to better gasp in the glorious air. It took him several minutes to recover, to open his eyes and finally take in his surroundings.

His first thought was that he had never seen a sky so blue. His second was that it had been nighttime in Japan. Which was quickly followed by his third thought, why was he in a forest?

"Mama?" He called out hoarsely, suddenly frightened of the strange environment that seemed to surround him.

Dark tree limbs twisted above him, masking all but a patch of that brilliant blue sky. Shadows seemed to dance across his skin as the forest canopy blocked any rays of light from cascading to the forest floor below. Roaring filled his ears, and he realized he was at the foot of a towering waterfall. Grass taller than him sprawled in all direction save for the pool of rippling water from which he had emerged moments ago.

Heart beating wildly, Yuuri dragged himself to his feet and tried to take everything in. For the most part, everything around him was silent. That only seemed to heighten the sense of danger for the young boy, and he scanned the foliage wildly for wicked things that weren't really there.

He sniffled and his lip trembled – he was so scared!

Suddenly a different kind of roar filled the air. Yuuri turned around quickly, only to find a creature of his nightmares had come alive.

His mother had read him fairytales. He knew what dragons were, and all the evils they were guilty of doing. But he had never imagined them to be this giant, or menacing. His shriek was drowned out as the dragon released another lazy roar.

The beast hadn't spotted him – it languidly glided over the tree-tops, it's long and heavy tail dragged through the uppermost leaves. It was a deep blue color, it's massive and semi-transparent wings created a maelstrom of wind that blew through the thick forest and knocked Yuuri cleanly off his feet. It flew directly over the young boy – he was cast in its cold shadow for several long moments as it adjusted its course of flight and ascended to land on top of the waterfall.

Yuuri whimpered and scrambled in the opposite direction of where the beast had just disappeared. He had to get away, he wanted to go home!

He ran for minutes, what seemed like hours. He was oblivious to the real dangers of the woods, which seemed to repel away from him as if he had an invisible shield around him. He reached no break in the trees, no relief from the nightmare that he couldn't seem to wake up from.

Eventually he broke down sobbing, and collapsed into a hollow at the bottom of a tree when he could no longer move. His body ached and his limbs were chaffed from the mud and leaves that had harshly whipped him when he ran past.

He was lost. He realized it suddenly, the weight of his new reality crashed down on him with brutal force. He was lost, and he didn't know how to get home. His chest heaved for several long minutes as the exertion of his panic took its toll. But then he went silent as exhaustion washed over him. Warm tears spilled down his face as he suffered homesickness through every fiber of his being.

As he lay motionless, he began to hear the whispers.

They built up gradually, softly at first. They were the opposite of frightening. They were quiet and comforting, soothing, even. They spoke unintelligibly, but they were familiar, and that's all that mattered.

A soft caress brushed over his face, and he was too tired to react despite the warmth of the touch. He opened his eyes and saw dancing lights surrounding him, a variety of colors. They were like smoke. He could occasionally make out a human-like figure emerge from a wisp of color, but it would dissolve as soon as it formed, only to slowly build up to a recognizable form again.

They continued to whisper to him, to pet his face, smooth over his hair, run smoky tendrils over his aching cuts and ease the pain.

"Who are you?" Yuuri whispered, though he was doubtful these creatures spoke Japanese.

_We help._

The soft whisper of a reply seemed to form directly in his mind. It was less words and more of a feeling, but its meaning was all the same to him. These things wouldn't harm him.

"Are you fairies?" he whispered back as relief from his wounds washed over him. He wondered if he had been lost in a fairytale land after all.

_Spirits. We help. We keep safe._

"Why?" Yuuri breathed out the word, making almost no sound at all. He was too tired, and a weight behind his eyelids seemed to drag him deeper into exhaustion.

_We keep safe. You here now, all will be well. We keep safe, we keep safe. _

Yuuri was lost to the world. He fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

Among other things, Yuuri was surprised to wake up with clothes in his lap.

The clothes –if they could even be called clothes – were nothing similar to the ones he had worn back in Japan. The cloth seemed tattered and worn, barely held together, grafted with vegetation from the surrounding forest. The tunic-like robe with scratchy and unlike anything he had seen before. However, it was better than nothing, and he silently thanked whoever had assisted him as he pulled it over his head.

A small whisper seemed to acknowledge him, but he barely noticed it.

He found some berries and scraps of meat piled near him that were arranged too intentionally to be there by coincidence. He ate them slowly, to savor them (another pleased whisper), and then surveyed the forest around him.

Today, he was less afraid. He wasn't sure where he was, but he clearly remembered his mother's teachings about what to do if he got lost. The memories of his family gave him strength.

Firstly, he was supposed to stay where he was until someone found him. With a shiver, he recalled the dragon that he saw the day before. He wasn't going to wait around for it to show up again, no matter what people would do in normal circumstances.

He supposed he could always try walking and finding people. People were good. But then again, what his mom had said about strangers…Did it count in a magical land such as this?

Everything was too confusing!

He grumbled and got to his feet, brushing the dirt of the forest floor off of him. He did a complete turn to look around him, but the trees all looked the same. He didn't even remember which direction he came from – the forest had healed itself after he had rampaged through it the night before.

The feeling of hopelessness came over him. Where was he supposed to go? This had never happened to him before.

A soft touch brushed past him. _Come. Follow. We help._

"Is it you guys again?" Yuuri said to himself simply, trying to find the dancing colors he had seen the night before.

They were there. They were harder to see in the light, but he could make out the misty forms of the spirits as they swam through the air around him. The air became distorted where they floated, which strained his eyes a little as he tried to follow them.

They led him around for a long time. Light couldn't penetrate the thick trees too easily, but there was enough sky visible to determine the direction of the sun. He had to stop quite a number of times to rest, and they brought him more food when his stomach growled. He grew tired, the exhaustion of the previous day catching up with him. It was growing dark again when he heard rumbling.

Yuuri stopped dead in his tracks, as did the spirits. He looked at the colorful wisps hesitantly for any signs of alarm from them, but they continued to dance around him, cooing with encouragement.

_She will help. She will watch. She will keep safe. Follow, follow._

Their tiny voices seemed delighted and proud, but Yuuri was still doubtful.

"If you say so." He muttered, and stepped out of the thick clump of forest into a clearing.

It was very hard for him not to scream. He had originally thought the giant mound in the middle of the clearing had been a particularly large rock, or a pile of dirt. It was only when it breathed that he realized he was horribly, terribly wrong.

The dragon before him dozed; the dark copper of its scales gave off a light sheen in the twilight. Its snout was long, its wings spread out messily around it. The forest surrounding them was disturbed and broken, as if the giant beast had rampaged before settling down. It wasn't as big as the one he had seen earlier, not by half. There was a certain roundness to some of its features that gave Yuuri the distinct impression that it was a lot younger than the one he had seen yesterday. As the initial shock wore off, he found himself fascinated.

When Yuuri looked closer, he saw that it's eyelids twitched, its body was stiff as it released labored breaths. It released a groan much like a miserable cat's as its legs spasmed under it.

It was then that Yuuri saw the blood. The dragon's copper body was littered with cuts and bent scales, dark blood oozing from its wounds.

_She's hurt!_ Yuuri realized.

Against his better judgment, and despite being afraid, he crawled to one of its massive wings to get a better look. Something sharp pierced his palm. He winced and lifted his hand off the ground immediately. Examining his hand, he pulled something brittle and sharp out of the throbbing flesh. The material was something familiar to him, surprisingly.

Eggshells? He looked around him, and he saw the ground was littered with the broken shells. They seemed freshly broken, too. The slime of the yolks and other egg goo shone under the light of the moon, appearing on the grass and the belly scales of the seemingly unconscious dragon.

Yuuri's heart was suddenly filled with understanding and sadness. He held the piece of egg close to his heart and looked at the mother dragon, who had seemingly lost a fight and lost her children as consequence. While she was big to him, she was probably very much young and hadn't stood a chance.

_You help._ The spirits urged him forward, their voices louder than usual.

He found himself in front of the dragon's head, his mouth agape.

"I can't help!" He whispered furiously at the sprites. "I'm just a kid! That's a freaking dragon!" He felt the ridiculousness of the situation called for a curse or two.

_Use power. You have. Great power. Use. Help._

Yuuri's eye twitched. He didn't know what to make of it.

The spirits, who had been swimming around him, suddenly swarmed around his hands. He lifted them in wonder and they prodded at the skin of his palms. Something stirred within him, something strange that he didn't like. He bit his lip in surprise as his hands began to glow faintly, and then his whole body.

_Heal her_.

Yuuri didn't even think as he listened to them. He brought his hands down to the dragon's face, his palms right between her eyes.

He shook when the dragon started awake, its eyes finding his instantly. But to his great surprise, it didn't move. It's whole body became still like stone, tense and uncertain. He watched her in wonder as her eyes became filled with grief and uncertainty.

She feared him. _She_ feared _him_.

_She feels your power._ The spirits whispered. _Great power._

"I'm not going to hurt you." He promised, doing his best to convey his good intentions through his…magic? He wasn't sure what he was doing right now, but he knew it could only be magic, or some other kind of sorcery.

He was already tired, but he poured everything he had into his hands, into her. It was too dark, he didn't even know if it was working. But all too soon he was out of energy, and he collapsed against her. He found himself in the grass, facing – once again – the all too beautiful sky.

The clearing was silent. Then, the giant beast released a great breath and got to its feet. The whole world seemed to shake when she moved, but the spirits reassured Yuuri that he would be safe. No one had ever told him that dragons could be sad. He had always thought they were great, evil beasts whose only wish was to kill and destroy.

But this copper dragon looked at the sky mournfully, her eyes full of what could only be described as grief. She released a low cry to the stars, and Yuuri slipped into the blackness once again.

 

* * *

 

When Yuuri awoke this time, he was warm. His body was heavy and felt empty, but he was far from uncomfortable.

He lifted his head, only to find himself completely surrounded by the slumbering body of the copper dragon. His heartbeat picked up a bit, and he looked around for the familiar figures of the spirits, only to find that they were gone.

Now he was nervous.

He carefully got up, limbs heavy, and wobbled away from the dragon. He wasn't sure what to do, and he certainly didn't know how he'd done what he'd done last night. Was he a wizard? A sorcerer?

Excitement suddenly sang through him as he wondered if he'd been sucked into some fun adventure. Did he have to save somebody to escape this world? Defeat a powerful enemy? The excitement quickly died when he remembered his homesickness. He wanted his mother, his father. Even his annoying older brother who always got on his nerves.

His lip was starting to tremble again when an animal-ish groan came from behind him. Yuuri spun around, only to find the copper dragon awaking. He saw her much more clearly than he had last night. While her wounds were not completely healed, they were closed and no longer bleeding. The dragon seemed more spirited, her copper scales shining beautifully in the morning sun.

She turned and found Yuuri with her piercing silver eyes. He was frozen in place as she advanced upon him slowly.

Soon they were face-to-face. Yuuri's heart was hammering as she seemed to survey him. Her hot breath blew the black hair away from his face; he squeezed his eyes shut.

He felt her gently nuzzling his arm, to his surprise. He opened his eyes to watch her. She seemed to want his hand, so he obliged and opened his palm to her.

Burning.

The next thing Yuuri knew, he was crumpled on the ground, cradling his hand as white-hot pain shot up his arm. He cried out as the burnt flesh throbbed, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. The dragon cooed and nosed him, as if wanting to see his hand once more.

"No!" Yuuri choked out and tried to roll away. He felt as if he might throw up.

The dragon snorted in annoyance and fixed him to the ground with a massive foot. She eyed him with an impatient gaze, compelling him to listen.

Hesitantly, Yuuri slowly uncoiled his wounded hand from under him and showed it to her once more. The coppery dragon breathed on it, her breath suddenly ice cold. Yuuri sighed in relief, oblivious to the fact that his burn had completely healed until he pulled a tingling hand back to his face and saw an angry red scar. He looked back at the copper dragon, and was momentarily taken aback by what he saw.

It was as if he could see the life energy swirling around her. Tiny streams of light laced through the air, through the ground, collecting together like tiny streams. He could see them inside the dragon too, a dense net of lights like the ones his family would hang for Christmas. They were harder to see, but they were there. They pulsed and tangled together with the tiniest of movements. He looked around himself in awe. But he blinked again, and they were gone.

Black eyes found silver, and he stared in wonder. What had she done to him! That was amazing!

The dragon grunted, nodded, and stepped back from Yuuri. The black-headed boy scrambled to his feet and looked around more. If he concentrated, he could still see the tiny lights. They were everywhere!

Suddenly the copper dragon spread its wings, the force of wind causing Yuuri to lose his balance. The copper dragon dipped its head to him, bounded a few steps, and then it was in the air.

It glided over the clearing once, twice, and then it was gone.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri found himself alone for most of the time after that. He would see the copper dragon every now and then – she would fly over him, and she would look down at him momentarily, as if to see that he was safe. Over time they warmed up to each other, forming an amicable truce. He would see other dragons too, but they often times ignored him (even though he was sure that they knew he was there).

Days passed. Weeks.

The spirits visited him often and talked to him. They taught him things- taught him magic. He began to learn about the woods and the creatures in it, because he could not find his way out of them. Sometimes he marveled that he had managed to survive those first few days, there seemed to be so many dangers in it. He was often injured or sick, and he was always hungry. He had never learned to fend for himself after all.

Weeks became months.

Yuuri didn't speak much anymore. He hunted, and killed. He hated killing, but he had to live. He found himself becoming part of the energy that filled the forest, and he no longer had the will to leave it. He thought of his family every now and then, but he tried not to dwell on them. They were unimportant when it came to his survival, even if he still cried over them every night.

Months turned into years, though he didn't keep track of the time anymore.

He practiced his Japanese – that was the one thing he didn't want to forget. It kept him human. Everything else seemed lost, though. He felt like an animal, and he lived like one, too. His family was a distant memory that no longer pained him. Still, he found a certain humanity within him that surprised him sometimes.

He had magic. He used it every now and then, to heal and defend. Dragons were kings in this valley, but they respected him and kept their distance. The memory of his first meeting with the copper dragon (for she had been watching him all these years) found him enforcing peace around the forest. He broke up fights between the giant creatures more than once with his ever-growing powers. The dragon population began to grow and thrive.

It was around then that he saw humans for the first time since he had come to this place. But they weren't there to save him. They tried to harm the creatures he protected. They had the nerve to hunt the valley's weak and young.

He drove them away, and to say they were surprised to see him was putting it lightly. They didn't have magic like him, making the task that much easier. But they shouted at him, frightened, and ran away upon the sight of the youth with black hair and eyes.

No more humans came for a long time, and Yuuri wasn't sure how he felt about that.

More years passed, and the valley was at peace.

Yuuri Shibuya was eighteen years old when his life changed, once again.


	2. The Soul of the Wood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author is a little thirsty.

**Dragon Wood, Heart of the Drache Valley, Shin Makoku**

The sounds of battle drifted softly through the trees. Among the various yells and clangs of swords was the shriek of a furious creature that the half-blood listening knew all too well.

Conrad Weller, second son to the current Moah, Cecilie von Spitzweg, looked over his shoulder at his patrol of soldiers who were laying low in the tall grass of the forest. There were a dozen or so of them; they looked back at him with steady gazes steeled with determination.

They were half-bloods, like him.

For all that his mother doted on him, not even she could qualm the prejudice that much of the nobility in Shin Makoku had against the children of humans and mazoku. For several years he and his kind had fought to prove their worth on any and all battlefields they could volunteer for – and the country was in turmoil, so finding such an opportunity was not hard.

It was the pinnacle Battle of Luttenburg that had changed everything. Conrad had very nearly lost his life, and sometimes he wished he had; for not long after his unrequited love was extinguished when Julia von Wincott perished.

Everything had gotten so much worse after that, when Julia could no longer support equality for half-bloods. He had completed his secret mission on Earth, and then vowed to think of Julia no more.

After that, half-bloods became naught but outcasts, left with only the dirtiest and most dangerous of duties around the kingdom. He remembered his disgust, remembered volunteering for the patrol that circled the farthest borders of the kingdom, despite his best friend Yosak's pleas. He didn't have to return home this way. The only interaction with those citizens who were not "his kind" was restricted down to a bare minimum, only when his squad needed supplies.

And so here they were, responding to a report of poachers in the Dragon Wood.

As usual, it seemed the hunters had bit off more than they could chew. There had been a sharp rise in the dragon population recently, calling amateurs from all over the world who thought they could kill and capture a prize or two.

More often than not, Conrad's patrol had to only watch as attackers were ripped limb from limb by the very beasts they had come to kill.

But every now and then, such as this occurrence for instance, a group of people who actually knew what they were doing would show up. Conrad's patrol was, among other things, supposed to protect the drachen. It was an endangered species after all.

Conrad Weller beckoned his patrol forward, and inch by inch they crept forward through the brush (they opted to leave their horses behind since they were so easily spooked by dragons) until they came face-to-face with a fierce battle.

These appeared to be mercenaries, for all Conrad could tell. They wore heavy armor and carried advanced weapons. It didn't appear as if they had attacked the dragon originally, they carried the wrong equipment to be poachers. They were probably travelling into Shin Makoku territory when they had been ambushed by the giant beast.

In the middle of the fray struggled a furious scarlet dragon, whose mouth was forced shut by some sort of tie. This handicap did not seem to affect its fighting ability in any way – it still had the mercenaries on the defensive.

A massive red tail swung out of seemingly nowhere and knocked a group of armored bodies flat onto the ground, followed by anguished cries.

"Bring the esoteric javelins!" A gruff voice called from the bottom of the armor pile, as several of the soldiers got to their feet and bolted into the woods. The scarlet dragon roared and tried to follow, only to be attacked from the back by another group of soldiers.

That got Conrad's attention. Humans and half-bloods weren't affected by esoteric stones, but dragons were known for using great levels of fire maryoku. Such a weapon would cripple them, and possibly even kill.

He drew his sword, the patrol around him mirroring his actions. He signaled them to follow, then skirted around the clearing towards where the mercenaries had disappeared. Those sad bastards with the dragon were on their own, but his group would intercept any soldiers who tried to bring esoteric weapons into the fight.

As if on cue, a battle cry sounded from the trees directly in front of them. Several armored mercenaries were emerging from the brush with heavy spears whose points were fixed with anti-maryoku stones.

"Forward!" Conrad released a roar of his own and charged, catching a mercenary between the shoulder blades with the hilt of his sword.

The half-blood squadron around him roared in response and swept the mercenaries with force.

The sounds of the now two-front battle filled the air. The pained grunts and roars of the clearing fight were close, and he knew the dragon was slowly picking off soldiers who had dared to attack it.

The Lion of Luttenburg did not stay his blows, either. Whether or not his enemies were poachers, the sentence for attacking this endangered species was death. He put his long pent-up anger in every blow, striking down and parrying the attacks from his opponents.

His battle trained eyes found weak points among armor all too easily, and he found his sword buried hilt-deep in flesh on more than one occasion. Screams around him told him his comrades were locked in battle as well. As he dropped enemies, he grabbed the anti-magic weapons and snapped them over his knee and shattered the stones under his boots. The ground became littered with broken esoteric spears.

Conrad could hear the air move as a heavy weapon swung down at him. He dodged a mace intended for the back of his head with inches to spare, and rebutted by twisting his sword in his grip and stabbing behind him.

He heard a grunt as the sword pierced soft armor, but his enemy did not fall, to his surprise.

He dislodged his sword and spun around, just to see a flail weight flying at his chest. He barely parried in time, deflecting spiked ball before it could make contact.

It was double weighted however, and suddenly there was a sharp crack at his shoulder as the second spiked ball hit him. He grunted as his shell-shocked arm dropped his sword, and he fell to one knee to brace himself.

Conrad could hear surprised and pained noises from his soldiers around him – they had never before encountered anti-sword weapons from the West in these Woods.

The mercenary had a helmet on and Conrad could not read his face, but he knew his opponent would be smirking as the armored mercenary advanced upon him once again.

"You think we did not expect you?" The armored man before him spoke proudly. Conrad recognized his accent's origin immediately, making him growl in anger. Cimarron. "That we did not know that Shin Makoku would send their best swordsman to protect the little secret that you hide within these woods?"

Conrad narrowed his eyes, careful to not let his face betray his confusion.

"We knew you would come. But Shin Makoku will not have its new Mao—"

Conrad dove for his sword, gripping it with his uninjured, dominant arm. He swung upwards and cleanly rid his attacker of one of his arms, cutting off the limb as well as what the man was about to tell him.

"ARGH!" The man yelled in pain, just as the dragon released another roar.

A much closer, louder roar.

"Shit!" Conrad cursed and dove out of the way as a giant red tail pounded the ground where he been standing a moment before. His enemy was messily flattened; Conrad winced at the sound of a hundred shattering bones.

Heat burst over his back as the giant red head descended through the trees and sprayed all still standing with white fire. Conrad shielded his head as best he could with one arm. The other arm was clearly broken and out of commission.

Screams of agony erupted around him. His heart sank when he recognized many belonged to his squadron. The forest was set ablaze and crackled with the same intensity of the dragon's fiery breath. The ground shook as an enormous clawed foot was brought down.

More crunching of bones followed. Conrad was thrown sideways with a simple, easy brush of the dragon's tail and he felt the impact of his back against a tree.

Grunting, he was suddenly on the ground. He was disoriented, and everything was chaos all around him.

How had everything gone so wrong, so quickly?

Was he finally going to die?

He could barely move, he knew there was no way to hold his ground against a dragon by himself, 'Best Swordsman in the Kingdom' or no. Broken trees seemed to partially hide his form as he could do nothing but watch what was left of his squadron flee into the trees or be squashed.

Another roar filled the air, but it this time it didn't belong to a dragon.

Conrad's head jerked to attention when he heard the dragon growl menacingly. It was glaring right at him.

Or rather, in his direction, for standing between him and it was a shorter figure clad in animal furs.

Conrad's eyes widened in wonder as he watched the figure hiss as the dragon lowly, and lower itself into a fighting stance. The new fighter had no weapons whatsoever. Panic seemed to race through him – what was that kid thinking?!

"Are you stupid? Run!" Conrad barked.

The figure twisted its head slightly in his direction, he could see the shadowed face of a younger boy with long and dark hair, who sent a small grin his way before facing the dragon once again.

" _Just stay there_." The boy instructed the wounded soldier quietly.

Conrad's mouth went slack. He noticed right away that it was not the native language to Shin Makoku, and yet he had understood it perfectly. He was reminded faintly of a time he had spent in a different world, among the people of a strange culture and even stranger language.

Had that young man just spoken  _Japanese_?

Too add to his surprise, the young man began to glow a faint blue, causing his dark hair to rise in a way that made Conrad think of a wolf raising its hackles. He recognized the aura immediately for maryoku, though he couldn't fathom what a maryoku-user was doing way out here.

The dragon flinched back slightly when it saw the boy invoke his power. It tensed and gave a warning roar, not taking its eyes off of the boy.

" _Back off!"_ The boy yelled back, the authority of his voice multiplied tenfold to sound like he had roared himself.

The wild-looking boy took a step forward, and to Conrad's great astonishment, the dragon actually took a step back. This continued until the dragon was clearly uncomfortable. It spread its wings and shot into the air, fleeing from the fur clad boy and injured half-blood.

 

* * *

Yuuri turned to look at the injured warrior, a victorious smile on his face.

He had watched the carnage unfold from afar. People like these soldiers had started to come to the valley more and more often, and Yuuri once again found himself chasing them away if the dragons and other forest creatures didn't take care of them first. Even the trees themselves would come alive some nights and drag those who would harm the forest deep underground.

However, he realized that some of the scents of the soldiers were familiar. They were the ones that never harmed a soul, only patrolled the forest, much like Yuuri did. The trees left them alone, as if the forest could feel their innocent intent. At first he had felt threatened. So he had watched.

The one before him now was the one he had watched the most closely.

Up close he could see the copper hair and silvery eyes that had reminded him so much of a dragon who had helped him so many years ago. He sensed the same strong will to fight inside the man. This warrior had no golden veins inside him that were the tell-tale signs of magic. All of the humans he had met thus-far were like this.

He walked slowly to the warrior, who still grasped his sword nervously. Yuuri could feel his uncertainty, so he was careful. He inched a few feet closer and then sat on the ground with crossed legs and hands tucked under his chin, facing the wounded man.

They sat in silence, staring at each other for a long number of minutes. The soldier looked him up and down in wonder, his gaze lingering on the dark, shoulder-length locks of hair that peeked out from underneath Yuuri's wolf-head hood.

"… _You speak Japanese?"_

The question caught Yuuri off guard, not expecting the soldier to utter his language. He found himself unconsciously leaning away from the man with wary frown.

The silence stretched out longer, before Yuuri thought to respond.

" _You speak it?"_

" _I have been to Japan._ " The soldier replied, giving a slight nod but not taking his eyes off the wild young man.

Yuuri narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the soldier, and brought his hands up to his hood. Startled at the sudden movement, the soldier followed Yuuri's hands with the tip of his sword.

Yuuri paused for a moment, fixing the warrior with an even stare, before lowering his hood.

His black mane-like hair tumbled around his shoulders, several leaves sticking out of the strands. He knew the soldier could see his eyes now too – he trained them on the man's clearly broken arm.

A quiet gasp escaped the man's lips, along with a few foreign words he didn't understand. But Yuuri ignored it, and instead crawled forward until he was right in front of the soldier.

The man's sword twitched, but Yuuri knocked it away from them, not caring for the man's useless weapon anymore.

" _I'm Yuuri."_  Yuuri gave a smile, definitely intrigued by the brown-haired warrior.

" _Conrad Weller_." Conrad replied, equally mesmerized by the youth. His eyes wouldn't leave Yuuri's, making Yuuri blush a little against his will.

The double-black gave a self-conscious smile, before returning his attention back to the arm.

" _You're hurt, Conrad-san."_

_"Just Conrad is fine. You saved my life, after all."_

_"You're hurt,_ _Conrad_ _._ "

This was the most Yuuri had spoken in a long time. The swordsman fascinated him like nothing else had done before, and he was certainly handsome. He had never felt this motivated to speak, to make an impression.

Yuuri surveyed the twisted arm, and prodded it none too gently.

Conrad hissed sharply and jerked his arm away towards his chest, then groaned and swooned to the side. Frowning, Yuuri drew his hands upwards and began to inspect the man's face and head for injuries. Seeing nothing drastically wrong besides a minor bump, his hands trailed downward to the soldier's chest.

" _Don't._ " Conrad gasped out in pain, but Yuuri ignored him and ripped the shirt open anyways.

Yuuri was accustomed to scars, which Conrad certainly had plenty of. The swordsman's chest was decorated with them, telling Yuuri the man had had a life of hardship. Dark bruises were beginning to blossom where the soldier had fallen, and he could bet that they would be forming on his back too.

Yuuri felt the familiar energy building up in his hands (tiny golden lights in his fingers sparked to life), and he ran his fingers down the man's tan chest, watching his healing magic dissipate into the foreign flesh and begin to reconstruct and heal.

Conrad's labored breaths became easier, much to Yuuri's happiness. He returned his hands to either side of Conrad's face, and connected their foreheads.

Conrad watched him in confusion, a look of bashfulness fleeting across his features for a moment.

Yuuri reached inside himself and pulled out more of his magic, letting it flow into the soldier beneath him. He searched with his aura, stitching together anything he found amiss in the swordsman's head.

Something prodded back at his mind; something dark and despairing. It was like an infection, this sadness rooted deep within Conrad's psyche. Yuuri steeled himself and pressed in, determined to clear out any darkness in his path.

It burned a bit, Yuuri hissed. He did his best to keep his sharp nails from digging into Conrad's temples despite the images that began to swim into his mind.

Anger, so much anger. Blizzards and storms, but then a break in the pain – a single anchor rooted deeply there. A woman, with unseeing eyes, kindness. She seemed to look right through him, smile sadly, and then evaporate into mist. A tidal wave of loss crashed over him, he felt himself swept away in it. Shadowy figures flitted before his vision, figures that Conrad knew well, but a bitter taste of betrayal was tart in his mouth when he saw them. Yuuri tried to force himself deeper, to see the true form of this sadness.

He clenched his teeth and finally broke through. He knew he had found the man's soul, and that it would be deadly to touch it, taint it.

Carefully he wove his magic together like a blanket and wrapped it around Conrad's essence as much as he could. He poured as much as he could into it – his happiness, rare memories of his family, his joy of life. Conrad's breathing became irregular once again, but he didn't resist against Yuuri's touch. He could feel the darkness being burned away – impossibly slowly, but it was diminishing all the same. He had planted a small seed there, and it would help him heal as it grew.

Spots began to light behind Yuuri's eyes, like circuits breaking and blowing. He broke the connection suddenly and fell backwards against the soldier's lap.

He found that Conrad's silver eyes and his own black ones were wet with tears. Conrad panted harshly and leaned against the tree, both of them exhausted from what had just occurred.

"… _Yuuri_ …"

The soldier looked as if he was about to say something when his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed, his body finally giving out under the strain.

Yuuri felt close to passing out himself, but he would not leave them in such a vulnerable position. He went to the back of the soldier and carefully picked him up from the armpits, doing his best to drag the man that Yuuri was quickly finding out was mostly muscle.

Yuuri was not small, by far. About three years ago he had gone through quite a growth spurt and his shoulders had filled out, his arms and legs and torso had lengthened. He found that building muscle came easier to him, which was useful in this dangerous terrain. His hair was almost like a mane – he hadn't cut it for quite some time now, and as a result it cascaded down slightly below his shoulders and was pretty hard to manage. He was not a boy any longer.

But this was a  _warrior_  he was carrying, he knew. Conrad was heavy and bulky, callouses on his hands.

Huffing and nearly dropping him a couple times, Yuuri dragged the unconscious man deeper into the woods where Yuuri knew was a safe haven. It was Yuuri's lair, one of them anyways. Underneath a thick, fallen tree was a hollowed out hole big enough for several people. It was only accessible through a small gap between the snapped roots, presenting a huge problem to Yuuri when he could barely fit the soldier through.

But he did, and that was where he finally collapsed, at the side of the man that he had saved.

 

* * *

Conrad didn't know how long precisely he slept, but he could tell when he awoke that it had been a long time. He didn't move, but surveyed his surroundings with eyes barely open.

Through his eyelashes, he could tell he was in a hole of some kind, seemingly by himself. It was dark and damp, the only source of light coming from a small slit of an opening. Flexing his fingers, he guessed that he now rested on a small mountain of furs.

Assessing that there was no immediate danger, he stopped feigning sleep and rolled into a sitting position. His arm was in some kind of brace, and his sluggish mind struggled for a moment to remember why. Oh right, Yuuri.

It had been quite a shock for Conrad to discover the youth that saved him was a double-black.

The wild teen was a thing of myth – it had been prophesized that a double black possessing great power would arrive in Shin Makoku and cause great change. Conrad was a man of sense and usually didn't believe in prophecies. Normally he would have just seen Yuuri as nothing but a beautiful, albeit strange, oddity that lived in the woods.

But Yuuri had scared away a dragon with no effort. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.

And then there was what Yuuri had done to him afterwards…Conrad pinched the bridge of his nose as he remembered. It had been painful; all of his darkest memories forcefully dragged to the surface of his mind and flipped through like Yuuri had casually been reading a book. He still wasn't very happy that Yuuri had done that, but…

He felt different. Like there was some kind of soft cushion separating him from all of his insecurities and doubts. He felt...lighter. Not exactly happier, but kind of like his burdens weighed a little bit less.

He did his best to crawl for the entrance on only one arm (The space was wide, but definitely not tall), with his injured limb held tight to his chest.

It was difficult squirming his way out, but he managed. He had been under a giant tree the whole time? He marveled at its size as he plopped in the grass, observing the dense forest around him.

Yuuri was still nowhere to be seen.

A part of Conrad desperately hoped that the teen hadn't left him to fend for himself in these woods. It was the other part of him that was painfully aware of the absence of his sword. As much of a woodsman as Conrad was, these woods were dangerous. Besides the obvious danger of dragons, there were several wild creatures of make and size that could easily extinguish Conrad's puny life if they had the whim. Without a weapon of any kind, he felt more and more like a sitting duck with each passing second.

And as if the fates had designed it, the foliage to his immediate front left began to rustle violently as a soft whine and panting could be heard.

Conrad stood, wondering if he should flee – that didn't sound like Yuuri at all.

A massive wolf ripped through the leaves suddenly and bolted right at Conrad. He shouted and braced himself as a last defense. The wolf wasn't attacking, however. Its tail was tucked firmly between its legs and it ran directly around the soldier, as if he were an obstacle.

Another wolf leaped out of the foliage right behind it and tackled it to the ground. They struggled for several moments, snarling and clawing at each other. Conrad watched in amazement and alarm, only just realizing that the second wolf hadn't been a wolf at all, but Yuuri, in his fur hood.

Yuuri released a vicious snarl and bit down on the canine's throat. It gave a high pitched yelp before Yuuri released it and it scrambled to its feet, darting into the woods.

Yuuri huffed and got to his feet, mindlessly brushing some dirt off his knees (though the teen was covered in it, so it didn't do much good).

" _That'll teach him to come so close again._ " The double black growled, before turning back to Conrad with a beaming smile. Blood from his fled enemy was smeared across his chin. " _Good morning, Conrad!"_

Conrad was so thrown off by the complete one-eighty personality change that he completely forgot himself.

"What in Shinou's name...?"

" _Eh?"_

_"Oh_." Conrad corrected himself, remembering that the double black could only speak one language. " _Good morning._ "

Yuuri smiled and started to straighten his clothes again. He wore a light (hand-made?) tunic and no shoes, but his shoulders were completely covered with thick furs. The black wolf-head hood atop his head was definitely the oddest of accessories the double black donned, but Conrad felt it fit him in a way.

_"Awfully energetic this morning, aren't we?_ "

" _I was checking on your comrades_." Yuuri replied, a sullen and-guilty?-look suddenly befalling him.  _"I'm sorry, but they're all dead."_

Conrad's heart sank, and he looked at his lap so that the wild observer would not see him suddenly overcome with emotion. His friends…the ones who had been by his side all this time, sharing his scorn for the nobility and iron resolve to prove themselves. They had not gotten the chance to see equality, to see justice. He felt his eyes become glassy and moist.

Strong arms were suddenly wrapping around his shoulders. Yuuri's warm breath was on his ear, but he said nothing.

The double-black held the soldier like that for several long minutes, letting the man regain his composure. Conrad was thankful for the comfort. He leaned in to the touch unconsciously, not having been held like this for several years.

It was only when Conrad's stomach grumbled from sheer hunger that Yuuri released him. The double black gave him an awkward smile, before grabbing his hand and beckoning the soldier to follow him.

Conrad rose to his feet, all thoughts gone except for the one that told him to follow Yuuri.

Something had changed within him, he could feel it. Whenever he touched Yuuri, something warm and soft would stir inside him. He hadn't noticed it at first, but now he sensed it there. Something unfurling.

Something that grew with every look and smile the double black threw his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri has no consideration for personal space and Conrad is gay af.


	3. A Wolf and a Lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Conrad have a nice vacation before some people show up to crash the party.

**Dragon Wood, Heart of the Drache Valley, Shin Makoku**

The entity that was "Yuuri" was a complete mystery to Conrad Weller.

The young double-black at times seemed perfectly rational (normal, even) despite his wild attire and dress. It was at these times that Conrad would chat with him and learn about the forest, for Yuuri knew quite a lot about the Dragon Wood and the creatures within it. He had a deep desire to protect the life within the forest and felt deeply saddened when he was driven to hunt out of necessity and hunger, a quality Conrad found very much admirable.

At other times, Yuuri would become one of the very creatures he described so lovingly.

It was when Yuuri was like this that Conrad found himself standing back and warily watching as the wild teen took down animals twice his size bare-handedly (not without the aid of his maryoku, of course) and then carried the carcasses slung over both shoulders like he was an ox bearing a yoke.

He had the reflexes of an animal too. The way the double-black carried himself was not unlike the way his many soldiers would stance themselves in unfamiliar territory. He was light on his feet and twitched at the slightest of rustles or snaps. Conrad was almost impressed by Yuuri's level of alertness.

Also, Yuuri had no sense for etiquette or social behavior. Which wasn't surprising. But still. 

The young double-black didn't know of and didn't care for personal space. On more than one occasion, Conrad would wake up in the morning with the teen curled up against his side like an enormous cat. When the soldier would receive a nasty cut from collecting food or digging around the woods (Yuuri protected him from the dangers of the forest for the most part, but it seemed some of the vegetation liked to misbehave), Yuuri would actually bring Conrad's injured hand to his mouth and  _lick it clean._

Yes, the double-black was a complete enigma.

The solder yawned and stretched out his body in the grass. He was currently resting near Yuuri's Lair (he had started calling the underground burrow this in jest, but later discovered that the description was all too fitting), the cool hollow under a fallen tree, after a late morning swim.

If he ignored the lethal dangers constantly lurking around him and plotting to maul him, kill him, and mutilate his body… Conrad thought that the forest was quite charming. The speckled sunlight that filtered down was warm to the touch, the gentle breeze that whistled quietly through the trees and through the light brown locks of his hair was more than relaxing. Either way he was able to enjoy the forest a lot more now that his weapon had been returned to his side.

Conrad counted three weeks that he had been in Yuuri's care.

The wounds from his battle were slowly fading. His cracked ribs were only bruised now. Yuuri had been extra attentive to his arm, making sure that it was splinted, magicked, and exercised daily. His head still troubled him, but that was probably due to the fact that Yuuri had paid a little extra… _attention_  to it.

After the feral teen had taken him to the site of the battle that had wiped out his entire squadron – he needed to see the destruction with his own eyes and fetch his sword – he had finally resigned himself to his failure.

 _He had failed at his duty._  The thought struck him like a sack of bricks, but it was liberating at the same time. The kingdom had always failed him, so why shouldn't he return the favor? For all those outside of the squadron knew, everyone who entered the forest was now dead. And it wasn't as if he had completely failed – all of the poachers had been slain as well.

Maybe, just maybe, he could be like Yuuri and live out his life among the woods here. Thankfully the wild teen didn't seem to mind his company. Was there any need for him to return to the kingdom?

He thought again about the prophecy that foretold of Yuuri. At least, he was fairly certain that it pertained to Yuuri. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see this double-black on the throne of Shin Makoku. He had the power and looks of nobility, but…

" _Conrad!_ "

Conrad bolted up at the sound of his name being called, turning around to see a dark-haired, half-naked Yuuri emerging from the forest.

" _I didn't know you were done washing already,_ " Yuuri called softly and smiled sheepishly, " _Sorry you had to walk back by yourself._ "

The swordsman gave a small smile, remembering how Yuuri had climbed up and up the nearby waterfall as Conrad bathed, the young man scaling the rocky face with ease even as water sprayed his face. Eventually Yuuri had left his line of sight, and Conrad has decided just to leave him to it. 

" _I'm a capable swordsman._ " Conrad gave a shrug. " _I can manage a brief walk on my own._ "

Yuuri smiled meekly in response, but his eyes were still concerned. Then it hit Conrad – Yuuri hadn't even gotten fully dressed before chasing him down. Almost like he had started looking for him as soon as he realized he had gone.

Had Yuuri been… _worried_  about him?

" _Sorry_." Conrad murmured, suddenly feeling guilty.

Yuuri relaxed, shoulders that Conrad hadn't realized were tensed before suddenly looked a lot smaller.

" _I should be sorry._ " Yuuri replied, straightening. " _I was thoughtless…you could have gotten hurt._ "

Conrad dismissed the double-black's apology with a wave of his hand.

" _If anything, I should be the one protecting you._ "

Yuuri scoffed and rolled his eyes. He took a seat not far from the soldier and began to dress himself fully.

" _I'm serious._ " Conrad said more firmly. " _I…I owe you a great debt._ "

" _You owe me nothing._ "

" _I owe you_ my life _!"_

Conrad hadn't meant to shout it – Yuuri jumped to his feet like a startled cat, clearly ready to flee. In that split second, Conrad's trained eyes could detect a trace of surprise on the double-black's face. Surprise and fear.

And that…

That made Conrad feel  _awful_.

It was as if some of his anger from so many years of abuse had slipped out before he could stop it. It was always bubbling near the edge, threatening to spill over. Yuuri had done nothing to deserve it, he knew. But he badly just wanted somebody to _listen_ to him. He wanted to give something to somebody and not be turned away.

He hated himself a little when he realized he was thinking of Julia.

Yuuri, however, seemed determined to conquer his instincts. He visibly straightened himself out and walked over to Conrad. There was a slight swish of clothing as the double-black sat at Conrad's side and drew his legs up to his chest.

The soldier could hear Yuuri's heart beating wildly. He listened to it as the silence stretched out between them for several moments.

It was a comfortable silence.

A cool hand met his, and he found his palm drawn towards Yuuri. The teen seemed to be tracing the lines of his palm, studying the callouses of his fingers with fascination. He flipped it over and analyzed the silvery scars that had accumulated from the many years of sword fighting and wars.

Once he seemed satisfied with the hand, he ran his fingers up Conrad's arm, tracing the scars there. His pace was lazy, and lacked any real purpose.

Conrad could feel himself unwinding under the double-black's soft touches, something he was quickly discovering was a special skill of Yuuri's that no one else had been able to do his entire life. He sighed and left his back fall to the grass once more, keeping his arm suspended so that the double-black could continue his ministrations.

After a while, Yuuri seemed to get bored of exploring the soldier's old wounds. Conrad found he now had a companion at his side, stretched out in the grass.

Together they watched the sky.

There was a certain freedom to this. Here in the Dragon Wood, he was not the Maoh's half-breed son. He was not the disgraced Lion of Luttenburg, or the disowned brother of two perfect noble half-breeds. He was not the best swordsman in all of Shin Makoku. No, those burdens were no longer his.

Here he was just Conrad Weller.

 

* * *

**Entrance of the Dragon Wood, Near the Drache Valley, Shin Makoku**

Gunter von Christ was on a mission.

Given the command of two dozen soldiers and the kingdom's most efficient spy and tracker, he and his party had travelled for several days to reach the woods that towered before them now.

Conrad Weller, second son to the realm's twenty-sixth Maou, had been missing for two months.

At least, they could only hope that it was only two months. Conrad's squadron usually checked in for supplies and food once a month, and then would submerge themselves once again into the nearly impenetrable Dragon Woods. The royal advisor shuddered at the thought of anybody being lost – or worse – in such a place.

Gunter considered himself a friend of Conrad Weller. Or rather, friend was not the right word. He was a mentor to the half-mazoku, someone who had not turned him away because of his status. He was a role model to the young man when his father had died young, and taught him about his sword even though the prince soon left him behind in skill.

No, the term "friend" was best suited for the red-headed man at his side.

Gurrier Yozak.

The spymaster was expertly analyzing the forest before them, his focused state temporarily masking the agitated mood he had been in throughout the journey here. Yozak had been friend and comrade to Conrad throughout the last war, having even saved his life on more than one occasion. They both had been outraged at the treatment of half-bloods, though it seemed Conrad's desire for isolation led to even the red head being left behind.

Of course, Yozak had been first to volunteer to look for the missing prince when news of his friend's disappearance reached the castle. Gunter was a near second, seeing as how Gwendal was watching the castle in his mother's stead, and the youngest Prince Wolfram couldn't be roused to assist his "filthy human brother".

So here Gunter stood, ready to enter the treacherous forest in order to seek out Conrad's squad of half-bloods.

It was as if the horses beneath them could sense their intentions. Gunter's own horse, though trained to be steady in battle and chaos alike, twitched and chomped nervously at the bit. The soldiers lined behind him were less fortunate with their steeds; several horses tried to shy away, others shuffled their hooves.

Yozak cleared his throat, drawing Gunter's attention back to him.

"I see no signs of recent activity, Lord von Christ. No one has entered or left these woods in a long time."

The spy's tone was clipped, his face passive when addressing Gunter.

The royal aid suspected he wouldn't get anything more from the half-mazoku. For no matter what Gunter's relationship was with Weller, he himself was still a full-blooded mazoku nobleman.

"Thank you, Yozak." Gunter replied, scanning the dense trees with his own eyes.

"Sir." Was the only response.

"I'm entrusting our lives to you, Spymaster. These soldiers and I know wilderness, but somehow I think this will be a whole new experience."

Yozak's mouth twitched upwards at that.

"Let's hope your men have no problem following my instructions, Lord von Christ,"  _because I'm a half-blood,_  the unspoken words were there, "because they'll be dead as a doornail otherwise."

Gunter nodded grimly, casting his eyes over his shoulder at the soldiers behind him.

"Prepare yourselves, warriors of Shin Makoku!"

Gunter spun his horse around so that he was now facing the troops behind him. Many of them straightened at attention.

"It is the prince we pursue!" Gunter continued, projecting his voice. "We will return him home safely, even if it costs us our lives! That is our duty to the realm. Keep steady in your purpose, and we will see this mission through!"

He faced forwards again, handing authority back to Yozak.

Yozak gave a half-shrug, nudging his mount forward. The soldiers followed suit, and soon they were all knee-deep in uncivilized, wild forest.

Though, it seemed to Gunter, that the spymaster was enjoying himself.

For right as they entered the dense thicket and the darkness came upon him, the red-head, though unseen by any behind him, had had a wide and wolfish grin upon his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original ffnet note: 
> 
> "I like conyuu as a couple, but for the most part this story will focus on Yuuri and his adventures, not on romance (though you can bet there will be some in here). Conrad is quite fun to write, however, so I expect I'll be writing from his perspective quite a bit. And I imagine him as very smitten with Yuuri most times, so you may get that impression from him (hahaha)."


	4. Destiny and Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bad time is had by all.

**Among the Dragon Wood, Near the Drache Valley, Shin Makoku**

The travelling had been rough so far – Gurrier Yozak found these woods to be a little better than hostile, as magic forests often were.

He himself always avoided magic woods like the plague – these woods especially. The drache that made their living here did not take kindly to strangers. It was hard enough travelling through undetected by himself when he was on missions. Supervising a company of two dozen soldiers was proving to be a herculean task.

Lord von Christ's troops and Yozak had been on the road for three days. The trees were thick and dark, the canopy above them seemed to swallow all sunlight so that only the tiniest specks of light could dot along their path.

Dangerous and hungry creatures lurked around them, unseen by all but sensed by Yozak. He told no one of their presence, but they grew bolder every day. The night before, horses had gone missing, no doubt dragged to their deaths; their dying screams echoed among the twisted roots and branches. This morning several soldiers were forced to share steeds – all of them had a haunted look about them.

Even sleeping was difficult. Yozak had heard rumors that the trees themselves were alive and would weed out those who held ill-intent towards the forest. All soldiers had been instructed to never harm a soul in these woods (restricted only to eating the provisions they had brought with them), and still they were forced to take shifts sleeping at night to insure that none were pulled underground.

Yozak felt himself becoming more and more impressed with Conrad's ability to survive in these woods.

Still, it seemed the forest was doing all in its power to err them, for the forest did not like to release things that it deemed belonged to it. Yozak took heart in this, seeing as how that meant Conrad was probably still alive. Surely the forest would not fight so fiercely for someone supposedly dead?

There was another upside to this. In all this chaos, the full-blooded soldiers and Lord von Christ had grown a new respect for the half-blooded tracker. It was clear he had saved them many times.

And he would have to save them again before their mission was done, undoubtedly.

"Don't thank me yet," Yozak huffed grumpily when Gunter had begun to do so (after the half-blood had prevented several soldiers from plummeting into a gaping, hidden sinkhole), "We haven't encountered any dragons. Shinou help us if we come across one of those."

The troops seemed to visibly pale at the mention of dragons. It seemed to Yozak that they had completely forgotten amongst all the chaos of the past few days that the giant beasts did, indeed, live here. Gunter however, seemed - if anything - impassive. Yozak found himself growing suspicious of the mazoku noble and scrutinizing the lord.

Did Gunter really have that much confidence in his maryoku-wielding abilities? Or was he really just that powerful?

_Or maybe he's just a fool_ , Gurrier thought to himself. And that made him smile a bit.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri grew restless in his sleep. At first he thought it was nothing, but every day it got worse, almost as if there was a thorn in his side that dug in deeper the longer he ignored it. He would often wake to find himself clawing the ground or chewing the inside of his cheek until it bled.

He had even harmed Conrad, biting down on his hand in the midst of one of his sleeping fits and awaking the soldier, who released a strangled groan of pain.

Although Conrad had insisted it was nothing when Yuuri wrapped herbs and clean cloth around Conrad's hand, Yuuri felt guilt in the very depths of his stomach and he couldn't bring himself to look at his friend for the rest of the night and following day.

" _Yuuri, is everything okay?_ "

They stood alongside a deep pool; Conrad had been teaching the double-black to fish when he had turned to see Yuuri's fingertips dotted with blood- He had chewed his nails so short that they had begun to bleed.

_Was_  he okay?

Yuuri had never felt like this before. Ever since he had first met Conrad, strange memories seemed to shift in his mind. He felt something wild furling and unfurling inside him, as if his instincts were screaming at him to  _do_ something. But what? What was he supposed to do?

"… _I feel strange, Conrad."_ Yuuri finally admitted.  _"I feel like something is very wrong."_

Conrad looked at him curiously, as the soldier often did.

" _And how long have you been feeling this?_ "

Yuuri paused. Should he tell Conrad that the soldier was the root of his problems? He had dug around in the man's mind, and with growing certainty realized he had in turn unlocked something within himself.

" _A while._ "

Conrad simply looked at him: at the way he was bouncing from foot to foot, how he seemed more alert than usual, his pupils dilated and his hair standing on end.

" _You look like a wolf with its hackles raised._ " Conrad gave a small smile. " _Are you going to fight somebody, Yuuri?_ "

Yuuri wrinkled his nose at Conrad, sticking his tongue out at him.

" _Only if they try to mess with me._ " Yuuri growled playfully, although the tension had not left his shoulders. He paused. " _Or you._ "

Conrad looked pleased at the addition of himself, though he did his best not to show it. He cast his line out again, a homemade rod held gently in his large hands. They both watched the bobber as they let their amusement fade back into its previous seriousness.

" _I don't know what's troubling you_." Conrad replied finally, after what seemed like eternity. " _My guess would be that it's the forest. This place is beautiful, but it feels like a prison…It's quite haunting, if I do say so myself."_

" _But I've always felt safe here._ "

Yuuri was sure these woods would never hurt him. He felt it deep in his soul. The days of his past were distant and faint; he could no longer compare his old self to his present one. For as long as he could remember, he had always been 'Yuuri Who Lives in the Woods'. He was desensitized to his own wildness.

"… _How long have you been here, Yuuri?_ "

Conrad's question followed his train of thought so accurately, it caught him off guard.

" _My whole life, pretty much._ " He crouched down on the soft moss of the bank and stared over the water. " _Though I wasn't born here._ "

" _Oh, really?_ " That was genuine surprise in Conrad's voice.

" _I had parents…"_  Yuuri frowned in concentration, trying to remember was like grasping smoke. " _And a brother. His name was…_ " he trailed off in silence, not quite able to bring himself to say Shori's name.

In his mind's eye he saw black hair, like his. And dark eyes. An annoyed expression, but a gentle touch.

Conrad remained silent, giving Yuuri space to think.

" _I had a home, too._ "

" _In Japan?_ "

" _I'm not sure!_ " Yuuri laughed. " _It must have been, because I know the language. Probably better than I should, considering my short time there. I wonder why that is._ "

The soldier had no answer for him.

" _And then…"_

" _And then?"_

There was water, he remembered. Spinning and pulling at him from all sides and choking him. He was so sure that water was going to be his grave. Maybe it had been.

" _And then I was here._ "

" _Just like that?_ " Conrad sounded puzzled, he turned his gaze from the water to the teen sitting at his feet.

Yuuri shrugged.

" _Sometimes I think – maybe I died. Maybe I drowned and came here, and this is the afterlife._ " He looked up at the man he had saved. " _Maybe this is heaven?_ "

Conrad's gaze darkened ever so slightly.

" _I assure you, Yuuri, this is no heaven._ " His voice was firm, and quite certain.

Yuuri looked back to the water, absorbing that feeling of bitterness in his companion's voice.

" _I woke up here, and the forest took care of me. It almost sounds silly, but I belonged here from the very beginning._ "

Conrad watched him thoughtfully. Yuuri had a vague idea of what the man was thinking, but he didn't bother to delve too deeply into the soldier's thoughts. He was too tired, and too enraptured in his own memories.

" _Maybe it's a warning then._ " Conrad said suddenly, " _These woods are trying to warn you, to keep you safe._ "

" _From what?"_ Yuuri's brows furrowed in confusion. What force could possibly be so great that even this mighty magical wood would fear it?

" _Change?_ "

Now that was a thought.

" _It's warning me that change is coming for me, then._ "

It was possible.

" _Don't worry, Yuuri._ " Conrad reassured him, " _Whatever happens, I'll keep you safe."_

Yuuri grinned at the man next to him, taking heart in Conrad's benevolent smile.

" _Maybe the other way around_." Yuuri teased.

They fished for a while longer, chatting idly about anything other than their worries. When the sun was directly above them, they packed up their gear and gutted their fish (or rather, Conrad gutted his while Yuuri chewed on his catch, guts and all, while looking on).

It was always interesting, doing mundane things with Conrad. It gave him a glimpse of a world he had never known, of civilization and soldiers and conflict. He could see and feel the years of training on Conrad's body, hear the controlled way the man spoke and breathed that he must have developed after living with so many people. The soldier didn't like talking about himself, and his eyes grew dim whenever Yuuri asked him about his past. It was clear that Conrad disliked himself and who he was.

Yuuri had half a mind to bite whoever had made Conrad feel this way. But no, he would keep his animalistic tendencies in check. For now.

" _Hey, Conrad,_ " Yuuri bounced excitedly after lunch, " _patrol with me!"_

" _Eh?"_

" _You know,"_ Yuuri looked excitedly at his friend and motioned to the woods all around him, " _my_ territory _. If something is coming for me, I have to make sure everything is all secure, right?_ "

Conrad looked incredulous, but Yuuri's excitement was infectious.

" _Sure, Yuuri. Just, let me pick up my things before we leave, okay?"_

" _Okay!"_

" _And Yuuri-"_

" _Yes?"_

" _Let me know if something is about to attack us_ before _it does, alright?"_

* * *

 

**The Drache Valley, Shin Makoku**

"Careful treading!" Yozak called behind him to the soldiers who were growing weary, "We've entered dragon territory, now!"

Several despairing pairs of eyes met his, and Gurrier had to bite his tongue in order to restrain himself from ordering them to buck up, they were looking for  _Conrad_  after all! But these were not his half-blood troops, who shared camaraderie with Weller and would give an arm or leg to find him.

The Drache Valley was a whole different story from the Dragon Wood. There was a distinct lack of forest, and in its place was a swath of blistering desert running through the pit of a dry canyon. High cliffs rose up on either side of it, forming something like a narrow bowl, with mountains and the forest at either ends. This place was renowned as a dragon breeding ground – the great beasts made their nests on the cliffs of the canyon, where sunlight was most direct. They stood at the edge of it now, the forest at their backs and the cliffs before them.

The valley was secluded and harsh, but there were many caves and niches that Conrad and his troops could have taken shelter in if they were wounded or cornered. It would be a dangerous search, but so long as they moved only at night when dragons were least active, they would be able to search without interference.

If they made camp here, they could search without worry of the forest killing them all slowly at night. The caves would be safe – so long as the soldiers could be quiet, and didn't mind living under the feet of dragons.

"We had best find a place to camp for now, Spymaster."

Lord von Christ did not seem to share the anxiety of his troops. He dismounted from his horse to shed a few layers of his white robes. Yozak couldn't blame him; the heat could easily cook an egg, give or take a mazoku nobleman.

"I would advise that we take shelter in a cave and keep the forest close at our backs." The white-haired mazoku's tone suggested he was doing more than 'advising', "In case we need to quickly flee from an enemy and take shelter under the cover of the canopy."

Von Christ was a different kind of person outside of the palace, Gurrier concluded. The man was a close companion of Lord von Voltaire, and often acted childishly around him and Von Bielefeld. But Yozak knew from his Academy days that the man could be commanding, just as powerful as he was serious about his duties.

"I agree." Yozak nodded, and dismounted. "However, we'll need to leave the horses here, my Lord. They make too much noise and they won't last in the caves."

Gunter followed the advice immediately, motioning for the rest of the troops to dismount. They did so silently, many eyes trained warily upwards on the sky as bags and supplies were untied from the saddles.

"We can tie them here at the forest's border, my Lord," said Yozak, "The wilderness will mask their scent, and the fauna will not hunt them so close to the breeding grounds."

"Good thinking." Gunter smiled, and began instructing the squad to tie the steeds.

As his instructions were carried out, Yozak took some time to survey the Valley before them. Twilight was beginning to fall – they would be able to skirt the base of the canyon and avoid detection under cover of darkness. Dragons rarely hunted at night, instead opting to settle over their nests to keep in the day's warmth over their young.

It would take him and the soldiers some time to find a cave big enough to shelter all of them. There was also the chance that something –or  _someone_ \- else was using these caves.

They would have to be extremely careful.

"We're ready, Spymaster." Gunter called out softly from where the squad had assembled, clutching their supplies.

Yozak motioned for them to follow, keeping several steps ahead of them so he could better detect danger.

He led them towards the wall of the canyon, and then they flattened themselves against it, trailing along it while they walked deeper into the Valley. They came across a small niche or cavern every few minutes – these canyons were holey, like a sponge. None of them were big enough to hold their company, however.

They spent a good part of the night searching and inspecting various holes, though every now and then they stopped to rest. Yozak silently prayed they would find some place adequate before they got too far from the forest, or before something found  _them_.

Sadly, they encountered their first dragon much sooner than Yozak had hoped.

It was around dawn that a bellowing roar ripped apart the peaceful morning silence – Yozak was not able to hide his frustration when Gunter's squad scattered like scared chickens.

"Get back here!" Yozak hissed under his breath, catching one man by the collar and slamming him backwards against the cliff wall. His voice could barely be heard over the leathery flap of wings. "Run and you're  _dead_!"

"Fools!" Gunter von Christ growled and separated himself from the wall, pulling out his sword and using the scabbard to knock the feet out from under the soldiers before they could flee. Gunter silenced them all with a steely glance, before they all froze as a giant shadow passed over the rising sun.

The dragon had not noticed them, it seemed. It released an angry roar, but it was not flying towards them. It circled once over them, before disappearing back over the cliffs.

Yozak released a held breath, before he saw another odd sight.

A group of ten or so men had separated themselves from the opposite side of the canyon wall, and were darting in the direction of the forest. They were not Von Christ's men, though they were covered head to toe in armor and looked like they were preparing for a battle. Among them looked to be one or two esoteric masters armed to the teeth with stones, which were completely out of place in this setting.

They didn't appear to be poachers, but Yozak could see at once that they were dangerous.

"What did you do?!" He could hear a gruff voice snarl, and one of the men reached out to cuff another over the back of the head.

"Well I figgerd if we got a few dragon goodies to take back wi' us after the mission, we could live it up a lil' once we got home…"

The end of the sentence was punctuated by a furious howl from above, as the dragon above them spotted the group and brought in its wings to dive.

" _Idiot_!" The first man screeched, before the group was screaming, running at full speed past Yozak's men and towards the forest.

However, the apparent leader of the seemingly-mercenary group spotted Gunter and the few men on the ground several yards away, barely hidden in the morning's soft shadows. His eyes narrowed in confusion, before turning and heading straight for them.

"You there!" The gruff soldier called out, drawing the attention of his soldiers, who also turned and started to run towards them, "What squadron are you from?!"

Gurrier, however, was painfully aware of the dragon bearing down on them, and drew his sword. The drache would take care of the mercenaries, but he had to save Gunter's men.

"Pay no attention to them!" Yozak yelled, waving at his soldiers to follow him once again, " _Run_!"

He turned and fled, hearing the grunts and hisses of metal as his men followed him and likewise drew their weapons. They kicked up quite a bit of dust as the two dozen men all scrambled, desperate to find a hiding place. Much to Yozak's chagrin, he could hear the loud clanking of armor from the mercenary group from behind them, seemingly having decided that their chances were better with Yozak's lot than with the giant fiery creature that was hunting them.

Yozak's trained eyes suddenly found what they were looking for – it was a small crawl space hidden behind some giant rocks, but it looked to go deep into the cavern wall.

"There!" The red-head called out and pointed, when out of nowhere a mighty fireball hit the wall above them.

Several men screamed in terror as they were cast into a cold shadow and the great beast descended on them, but the familiar voice of the mercenary leader called out from the back of the group once again.

" _Bring out the esoteric spears_!"

* * *

**Edge of the Dragon Wood, Near the Drache Valley, Shin Makoku**

" _You're joking!_ " Conrad blurted out the words, his eyes wide in disbelief as he took in the sight of Yuuri.

The double-black was slowly stroking the snout of a copper dragon, the creature letting out content noises as it slowly curled around the teen. Conrad could scarcely believe his eyes – he had never seen someone so close to one of the creatures, not without getting ripped limb from limb, anyways.

" _I'm not."_ Yuuri replied, his voice amused. " _This is my 'mother'._ "

Conrad stood warily off to the side, several yards away from the relaxed-looking pair. Years of experience and knowledge warned him that being so close to the drache was a terrible idea, but deep down he yearned to join Yuuri's side.

" _I don't think that's possible, Yuuri."_

The teen rolled his eyes, suddenly standing from the grass and running his palms own the dragon's neck. His palms glowed, and Conrad could tell he was sending soothing magic into the creature's body. As if to confirm his suspicions, the dragon started purring and unfolded itself, spreading out in the grass like a cat in the sunlight.

" _Well, obviously not my_ real _mother_." Yuuri replied cheekily, " _But she_ did  _take care of me_."

The double-black smiled down at the slightly smaller-than-average dragon (who still dwarfed both of them by about thirty feet) and flopped down against her chest. He rose and fell as she breathed – if Conrad wasn't currently deeply concerned for the teen's safety, he would probably think it was kind of adorable.

They had 'patrolled' the forest for the rest of the previous day and through the night – really it was just Yuuri excitedly showing Conrad all his favorite spots – and just as dawn broke, the feral teen had decided he wanted to introduce Conrad to "someone special" (which had naturally excited and simultaneously worried Conrad) as a fun end to their adventure. They had climbed up onto this rocky outcropping near the edge of the forest, and the half-blood had nearly died of a heart attack when he saw what was waiting for them.

"You're crazy, Yuuri." Conrart muttered under his breath in his own language, the fear he initially felt slowly ebbing away into wonder.

" _Why are you scared? Come over here._ "

Conrad found himself shaking his head at the invitation, letting slip an easy smile to show his amusement.

Yuuri pouted, then shrugged and pulled himself up higher on the dragon, causing her to roll as he eventually settled across her shoulders and ran his hands along her spine. Unable to get comfortable in the dragon's prescense, Conrad found himself turning away and looking out over the dawn-lit forest that had become his home the past several weeks. It was amazing how quickly time had passed, how much he had changed just by being there. Looking back at Yuuri, he wondered just how much the forest had forced the boy to change. What kind of person had Yuuri been before he had been lost? How had he come here from Japan?

_Could he be…_?

Conrad suddenly felt like a bucket of ice water was dumped over him as realization struck, the purpose of Yuuri being here hitting him hard. His time on Earth – that hazy part of his memory, when everything had been pain and grief after Julia's death – suddenly began to come back to him. Reeling, Conrad found himself suddenly sitting in the grass, as he felt the gaps in his mind from when Yuuri had forced it open suddenly spilling forth with information.

**_Why couldn't he remember?_ **

He had completed his mission, he had delivered the soul.  _What had he delivered it for?_   _Why had he been sent to Earth?_  It was as if the secrets had been sealed away inside him, and were now starting to slip through the cracks. But he recalled something else, a small life with a destiny so important to his world, and to him. What had the child been named?

It had been-

Yuuri caught the soldier watching him and smiled lazily.

" _You and she are the same, you know_ ," the double-black remarked thoughtfully, looking away from the dragon for a moment and pinning Conrad in place with his eyes. " _I little bit lost, a little bit lonely…_ "

The teen sat up a bit straighter, closing his eyes and basking serenely in the early morning sun. Conrad could only gape at him, feeling more and more like he was falling, the sinking feeling like a hard punch in the gut.

" _But you know, this lady here found something to live for._ " Yuuri smiled and scratched at his guardian's scales, oblivious to Conrad's own racing thoughts. " _I think one day, you will do the same._ "

" _Yuuri, I—_ "

Suddenly, the serene scene before him was shattered as a furious roar ripped through the air, followed by the sound of a fiery explosion.

The dragon was immediately on her feet, bringing Yuuri with her. The double-black seemed startled, and hung on tightly as he was whipped around. But then his head swung to the origin of the noise, and Conrad realized both the teen and the dragon were looking towards the Drache Valley.

"Yuuri!"

" _You coming, Conrad?_ "

Blinking, Conrad realized that the double-black had every intention of investigating the noise and was asking him if he wanted to tag along. Yuuri wasn't even looking at him, his dark eyes were fixed on his destination with determination glittering in their depths. He so badly wanted to go with the young man, the sweet allure of adventure calling to him, but everything in his body was screaming at him  _no, that's the breeding ground, that is not a good idea_ \- causing him to hesitate. But the copper she-dragon began to move, and Conrad found himself darting forward, reaching out a hand.

Yuuri grinned excitedly and grasped Conrad tightly around the wrist, hauling him up onto the dragon's back. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around Yuuri, although he had no idea where the double-black was supposed to hold onto.

Conrad gasped as he felt the powerful muscles beneath him bunch together like a massive spring, and then the copper dragon was bounding forwards. Then the ground beneath them disappeared, and they were left hanging in the air for one terrible, sickening moment as the dragon shot off the outcropping like and arrow.

Then he felt it – a shifting of muscles and flesh as the dragon's wing's snapped outwards. The wind immediately caught under the giant leathery wings, and the two men and the dragon were suddenly shooting into the air.

Conrad never even realized he had been screaming.

 

* * *

**The Drache Valley, Shin Makoku**

Wind whipped Yuuri's face as he, Conrad, and the dragon rocketed through the sky. The clouds before them seemed to part before them, giving them a clear path, though the teen left it to his scaly companion to sniff out where to go.

Yuuri was no stranger to the Valley, having been there several times to settle nesting disputes between dragons. Fights among the creatures were common, especially this time of year – the giant beasts were territorial, and a brawl for the sunniest spot could result in massive destruction. But Yuuri knew he could handle it, which is why he was fine with Conrad coming.

They hadn't been far from the Valley in the first place. Within minutes his coppery guardian began to slope downwards into a dive. Conrad had stopped panicking, but still clung tightly to Yuuri, the teen using his magic to anchor them both to the dragon's back.

The clouds whipped passed them and a massive canyon sprawled below them. A narrow valley snaked through it, with small arms branching off in a maze-like network of tunnels.

As they spiraled downwards, drawing closer, Yuuri spotted the unmistakable form of a dragon – it was another female – gold and a smidge smaller than the average male. Angrily she was circling close to the ground, spewing fire beneath her but hesitant to land for some reason.

On the ground under her, there was a rather large mass of men, some clad in heavy metal armor, while the majority wore lighter tunics and brown cloaks.

They were an odd sight to behold –the men in armor wielded heavy spears, and held them pointed upwards, poking at the dragon. The men in cloaks seemed to be fighting against them, trying to pull the spears down, but every time the dragon swooped closer and spewed fire, the men in cloaks would drop to the ground to avoid the blaze and lose whatever edge they had over those with the armor, despite the fact they outnumbered them two to one.

Conrad growled from behind him.

" _Damn esoteric javelins_." The soldier stated with disgust, his voice barely intelligible above the racing winds.

When they had almost reached the fray, the wind suddenly died under the copper dragon's wings. Yuuri yelped at the sharp jolt of magic he felt suddenly in the air – something had killed the winds, for nothing natural could have stopped them so suddenly.

They plummeted downwards – the copper dragon flapped her wings furiously, but the combined weight of Conrad and Yuuri was too much for her to support on her own power.

With a rush of determination, Yuuri released his hold on the dragon, reached up to his waist and gripped Conrad's arms tightly, and then he threw himself and his companion of her back. They weren't that far from the ground, maybe a hundred feet or so, but even so, Conrad seemed to be yelling at him with panic and clung to Yuuri out of instinct as they shot towards the ground.

The copper dragon was able to somewhat right herself with the weight gone. Yuuri, meanwhile, collected his magic and blasted it underneath him.

It only took them a few seconds to reach the ground despite Yuuri's attempt to slow their descent – they hit it with the force of an explosion, but Yuuri's power netted out below them had protected them from most of the blow. Dust and sand were blasted upwards – suddenly the troops around them were forced to stop fighting when they literally lost visibility after the shell-shock of the teen's landing.

Yuuri heard a similar crash not too far off – Yuuri hoped desperately in the back of his mind that the copper dragon had landed safely as he groaned and stood amongst the carnage, in the middle of a small crater.

It took a few seconds for him to collect his bearings – Conrad, surprisingly, was on his feet even before Yuuri was, his sword drawn and his body poised for battle.

He could see the outline of them men around them, frozen in place and uncertain of how to act. More likely than not, they had no idea of what had just happened, and were not prepared at all for Yuuri's arrival.

Grinning, Yuuri opened his mouth and prepared to release a roar to scare off the intruders, when another creature beat him to it – the golden dragon was suddenly landing behind him, her massive wings blowing away the dust and washing them all in clear morning light.

Yuuri quickly took in his surroundings, aware that every eye in the place was now on him. The men in the armor were large, the spears they wielded hummed with a dark energy. Yuuri could see them sucking in the flickering lights of magic he recognized so well. Two people in lighter cloaks in their midst wielded stones with the same abilities – growling, it occurred to Yuuri that they were probably the ones that had killed the wind, in an attempt to bring down the golden dragon.

The copper dragon had landed far behind them – he could sense that she was alive, though unmoving. Unlike her, however, the golden dragon directly behind him was a blazing inferno of power, rearing to strike down all in her path.

Those in the tan cloaks, oddly, were all gaping, their swords unconsciously lowered as their eyes were locked on…?

"Conrad!" cried one of the tan-cloaks, his orange hair an eye-catching shade in the light. A beautiful man in a white cloak pressed forwards, shouting something - around the man, several of the other tan-cloaks began murmuring words that Yuuri didn't understand.

Conrad seemed just as equally shocked, the tip of his sword lowering slightly as he said nothing.

Suddenly, Yuuri sensed the dragon behind him rear back, ready to spew her blistering fire. He lashing out with his foot and caught Conrad around the ankle as he spun around. The soldier was flung to the ground as Yuuri raised his hands and erected a shield of energy.

The blast of fire connected – the force of the explosion threw the other men who were not Conrad backwards – though they all remained unburnt, thanks to Yuuri's protection.

The golden dragon snarled in anger and back up a few steps, recognition clear in her eyes.

" _Yuuri!_ " Conrad cried out as he scrambled to his feet, " _keep that dragon busy, I'll take care of these guys!_ "

Yuuri nodded, not breaking eye contact with the golden drache as he stalked towards her.

Behind him, he could distinguish several angry cries and the hissing of metal. Within a minute, the sounds of battle erupted behind him, but he didn't turn from his duty, trusting in Conrad to protect his back.

A low hiss rattled from the dragon's throat, she lowered her massive head and tensed to pounce. Her focus was elsewhere – narrowing in on the men behind him. Yuuri knew that the men had stolen from her, and what they had rightly belonged to her. He would have gladly let her have her way with them all, but some of those men seemed to know Conrad – and a friend of Conrad's was a friend of his. He would protect them now, and interrogate them later.

Drawing magic from the land, Yuuri lifted his foot and brought it downwards, causing the ground to shake fiercely, and disrupt the dragon's balance. The creature stumbled and the ground cracked beneath his feet – he reached deep within himself and the ground – and he pulled upwards.

Water bubbled around his feet – and unusual sight in the desert-like Valley, but it had always been his element.

As the dragon leaped forwards with a roar, claws extended towards him, the water at Yuuri's feet took form and shot forwards. Spitting water serpents wrapped around the dragon's forelegs, and Yuuri  _pulled_.

The dragon, despite her massive size, was thrown bodily across the Valley, and roughly hit the side of the canyon. As she tumbled to the ground, the double-black let out a challenging roar in the hopes that she would be scared off.

There was a shout behind him – Yuuri glanced around in time to see one of the armored men in his space, heaving a massive metal weapon down towards his head. Once again he unleashed power from his core, powerful and blunt, thrusting outwards, and the man was flying backwards into the battle. Slightly confused as to why the humans were attacking  _him_ , the double-black turned back around in time to see the dragon back at its feet, fire already blasting forth.

Yuuri lifted his arms once more, and in a quick second, identified the strings of magic and energy entwined with the fire. He grasped at the strings with his own magic and jerked them apart.

The fire forked into two different directions, splitting before they could reach Yuuri. The teen pulled once more on the energy, and within seconds had absorbed it into himself.

Immediately his body screamed with pain as he contained the unbearable heat within the confines of his flesh. Determined to release it, he looked the dragon dead in the eye, took a powerful step forwards, inhaled –

Yuuri's face burned as fire shot from his throat, blistering in its heat as the massive fireball thundered forwards, and with a striking force, hit the dragon in the chest.

With a startled scream, the drache stumbled backwards, stumbling over the rocks. Dragons were no strangers to heat, but Yuuri decided he had finally unnerved his opponent – a power reserved for dragons having been wielded by his tiny form. As he predicted, the dragon couldn't escape fast enough. It turned tail and shot into the air, no longer hindered by the effects of those magic stones. Yuuri smiled as it flapped its wings and fled with the sound of a sonic boom.

Then Yuuri was focused on his 'mother', her coppery figure still unmoving amongst the rocks.

Choking up with panic, he took a step forward, ready to rush to her side and heal her wounds.

But then Conrad was crying out behind him—

" _YUURI!_ "

The double-black spun, suddenly cast in the shadow of a massive man. The rays of the freshly-risen sun glinted off the soldier's armor, blinding Yuuri.

For a painful second, he saw nothing. A heartbeat later he caught the glint of metal, falling fast, inches away from his face.

A painful blow landed on the side of his head. His entire head spun, bringing his body with it. Knees locking as agony rushed over him, he fell towards the ground.

The last thing he registered was a painful  _CRACK_  as his wounded head hit the hard ground, and he saw and felt no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original ffnet Note:
> 
> "GAHHH, FINALLY FINISHED THIS CHAPTER! This one is way longer than my usual, but I was determined to make it to this point since we should probably get this show on the road and get Yuuri into a castle at some point.
> 
> SO! Next chapter, we'll finally get to move out of the Dragon Valley towards the Capitol, and we'll finally get to see more characters.
> 
> For those of you asking why Conrad didn't recognize Yuuri, I hope this chapter answered some of your questions (/whispers *PLOT*)"


	5. Ghosts of his Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone continues to have a bad time.

**The Drache Valley, Shin Makoku**

" _You BASTAAARD_!" Conrad howled, already charging the man who had downed Yuuri with a powerful swing of his mace.

The armored soldier was laughing victoriously, resting the bloody weapon over his shoulder. He nudged the still form of Yuuri with a boot, the man uncaring of his attacker's rapid approach. As Conrad prepared to strike, the half-mazoku could only glance disbelievingly at the double-black, unmoving on the ground with a scarlet pool of blood oozing across the dust around his head.

"I got him, boys!" The mercenary bellowed, answered by several jubilant cries from the armored soldiers battling Conrad's rescuers behind him.

Conrad's eyes narrowed in confusion and hatred. His armored opponent turned to face him and Conrad hefted up his sword, already taking aim at the chinks in the man's armor. The mercenary began to swing - his bloody mace en route to parry the half-blood's sword.

"Conrad!" Yozak cried from somewhere in the battle as their weapons connected with a clang, knowing with just a glance that Conrad was at a disadvantage in size and brute strength.

But the soldier was angry: he let out a furious roar worthy of his Lion of Luttenburg title and  _pushed_. Using his momentum, he pushed the man's weapon down and outwards, the speed and force of the redirection making the mercenary stumble with the added weight of his heavy armor.

Conrad was already moving in for the kill.

Eyeing the gap in the armor between the bottom of the helmet and the top of the spine, the soldier was swinging his sword down with the force of a guillotine.

With a sickening crunch, the sword sawed through the man's flesh and his head dropped away from his body, hitting the ground in a puff of sand and spinning away. The spraying blood shone brightly in the light of dawn. Conrad didn't take the time to revel in his victory.

His entire world narrowed onto the frail form, still motionless, on the ground before him. He didn't hear the heavy body crash into the dirt behind him, didn't feel his sword slip from his fingers and drop away from him with a tiny clinking sound.

Instead, he heard his heavy breathing, felt his limbs go numb, as he dropped to his knees and rapidly crawled towards Yuuri.

The pool of blood was a concerning size now, glistening wetly. It was the first thing Conrad saw when he reached the teen, and immediately his mind began to race, grasping at anything he knew that could help.

For a moment he was overwhelmed with images that filled his mind – screaming soldiers, icy breaths filled to the brim with terror, an orange sky painted with fire. He had seen wounds like this before. Better men than him had died.

_Why, why, why?_

With shaking hands he reached out and turned Yuuri towards him, carefully pulling him up to inspect the damage. The entirety of the boy's face was covered with red, the source of the blood was some unknown wound somewhere in his hairline. Conrad had to stop for a moment and reassure himself that head wounds always bled excessively, and he moved on. With some miniscule relief, the soldier detected tiny puffs of air coming from the double-black's lips – even if it meant nothing more than that the boy's heart was still beating, it meant that something could be  _done_.

Conrad drew Yuuri to himself, hands stilling as he stabilized the teen's neck and used his own chest to put pressure on the wound.

He sat like that for a several minutes, knowing in the back of his mind that Gunter's men would be victorious –once the enemy was gone, they could focus on Yuuri - and so he focused on keeping the pressure steady. He could feel the wetness soak into his shirt, the familiar sensation haunting him as he heard the sounds of battle slowly die off behind him.

"Conrad!"

Conrad barely registered the sound of Yozak's voice as the orange-haired half-blood (looking rough from the battle that had just taken place) dropped to his knees next to the soldier, skilled blue eyes combing over the scene before him.

"Is he…?"

"He's alive." Conrad said firmly, head turning to meet the face of his friend.

"He needs a healer." Yozak stated what Conrad already knew. "Captain, what  _is_  he?"

Conrad didn't answer, his brain suddenly kicking to life and remembering that Gunter dabbled in the healing arts, having learned some of the skill to practice with his adopted daughter at the Academy.

"Von Christ!" Conrad yelled hoarsely, bracing Yuuri to his chest as he strained to look over his shoulder for the white haired beauty of a mazoku.

Behind him, he saw what remained of the battlefield – the mercenaries had either been killed or chased off, with little to no casualties among Shin Makoku's soldiers. Among them stood the handsome demon: worn and tattered, but intact. Instantly Conrad's former instructor spun at his voice, and trotted over to his side with a growing look of concern.

"Lord Weller? What's—"

" _Heal him_." Conrad begged, realizing how he must have looked, covered in blood and cradling the unconscious double-black.

But his rescuer didn't hesitate. As soon as he saw the bloody teen, Gunter, too, joined the half-bloods kneeling in the dirt and reached for the wounded Yuuri. He pulled the teen's head away from Conrad's chest and examined the wound with expert hands. Conrad lowered Yuuri onto the ground so that he would not obstruct the healer-swordsman.

The minutes dragged on painfully as his former-mentor worked. Conrad's hands fidgeted restlessly, longing to do something. But he held no maryoku, and was not able to heal wounds like Gunter was now doing. There was nothing he could do for Yuuri, and that bothered him. Yet, he was still too frantic to try to describe the feelings that raced through him as time ticked by.

"It's nothing too serious." Gunter spoke after what felt like hours, though it had been merely minutes since the Mazoku had begun using maryoku to revive the teen. "He'll have a concussion, no doubt. But the blood makes it look worse than it actually is."

Conrad slumped in relief, most of the tension in his shoulders suddenly lifting.

"It was smart of you to put pressure on the wound." Gunter remarked, as he parted the black hair around Yuuri's head, looking for anything he might have missed.

Yozak looked on quietly, nodding in agreement. Both he and Conrad were well versed on first aid, knowing even the small things could save lives.

"That's odd." Gunter suddenly froze in his ministrations.

"What is it?" Conrad and Yozak both leaned forward, looking over Yuuri for whatever was out of place.

"The wound is already healing."

Sure enough, underneath Gunter's fingers, the gash above Yuuri's forehead was slowly starting to close. It was not happening fast by far, but it could be seen by the naked eye, and that in itself was startling to witness.

There was a moment of stunned silence, the sounds of their soldiers recovering from battle behind them filling the space.

"Lord Weller." Gunter fixed the half-mazoku with a curious and concerned gaze, his hands still working to wake the unconscious double-black, "Who is this young man, exactly?"

Conrad peered down at Yuuri's still face, uncertainty starting to well up in his mind. He had lived with this boy for weeks, but he suddenly felt like he knew very little about him. And then there was his sudden remembrance of his mission to Earth to consider, and Yuuri's true purpose in Shin Makoku. Even if Conrad ignored all that, everyone present (who was still alive) had watched Yuuri literally throw a dragon effortlessly across the canyon. Yuuri's power was frightening, and the fact that the Mazoku had not known about it for so long even more so. The boy's mere existence was going to shake Shin Makoku to its roots.

Furthermore, the mercenaries had been here for  _Yuuri_ , which begged the question – how had Big Cimarron found out about Shin Makoku's Maoh candidate before Shin Makoku had?

He had so many questions. It was almost as if a greater power was at work, moving all of them strategically – secretly.

"His name is Yuuri." Conrad stated, figuring that was a good place to start with explanations. "He's…not from around here."

"Is that so?" Gunter mused. "His power…"

"It's extraordinary." Yozak glanced at his friend, eyes calculating, "This kiddo's got quite a kick."

The half-blood soldier opened his mouth to agree, when suddenly Yuuri came to with a strangled groan, drawing their attention.

"Conrad." Yuuri gritted out, cracking open his eyes to find his friend at his side. "What happened?"

Conrad barely had time to register that Yuuri hadn't spoken Japanese before the ground literally bucked under them, several startled shouts calling out behind them. The canyon walls seemed to sway, tiny pebbles skittering across the ground as some massive movement shook them all with the force of an earthquake.

A roar ripped through the air around them, and Conrad felt his heart jump into his throat.

The copper dragon had awoken.

* * *

**The Dragon Wood, Shin Makoku**

"I do  _not_  get paid enough for this!" Yozak screeched as his fingers raced to untie his horse from the edge of the forest, the Mazoku soldiers around him doing the same.

Conrad stood behind him, carrying the double-black (who seemed to be struggling to stay awake) in his arms, panic written clear as day on the half-blood's features. While the mysterious young man had some power over the dragons that was able to keep them at bay- everyone  _else_ , obviously, did not.

Von Christ fought to keep order, bellowing directions to the soldiers to remain calm and mount two riders to a horse. Yozak was silently thankful that they had brought warhorses with them, but even these battle-trained steeds were having trouble coping with the current circumstances. That was a natural reaction to have when dealing with dragons, though.

After the coppery dragon had recovered from its rough landing- which was shocking enough without Conrad literally  _dropping from the sky_ —it had let out a terrible, furious scream and took to the skies, intent on chasing them.

"She thinks you did this to Yuuri." Conrad had panted, exhaustion apparent, as they fled (Yozak noting that his friend had not included himself in their group), "She's his guardian—she wants him back, no doubt."

Yozak could scarcely believe this explanation, but now was not the time to argue.

The soldiers and horses around him flinched as an angry shriek sounded from above them, the copper dragon finding itself hindered by the tree canopy.

"Do we really have to take him with us?!" Yozak hissed as he mounted his steed, reigning in the beast before it could flee in terror.

"He needs a medic." Conrad replied matter-of-factly as Von Christ pulled up behind him, reaching for the double-black.

"I'll continue healing him as we ride." The pure-blood Mazoku explained, and Conrad handed him over without a word.

Yozak reached out a hand and pulled his long-time friend up onto the horse behind him. Then the company moved forward simultaneously, all the soldiers frantically kicking their mounts into action—the animals themselves happily obliging.

"Stay together!" Yozak called as they advanced into the magic forest without a formation, opting to face the lesser of two evils.

However, it was all they could do to dodge the bursts of flame erupting from the canopy above them. The treetops seemed to obscure the drache's vision, which is why they hadn't all been roasted to a cinder yet, but Yozak knew the moment their pursuer could break through the trees and truly get at them, they were all done for.

They quickly discovered, to their horror, that the woods also seemed to be against them.

Roots pulled themselves up from the ground and swung out wildly, causing man and horse alike to scream as they scurried to dodge the writhing foliage. An unnatural wind ripped through the forest, slicing and clawing at them. Though the sky above remained unchanged, the forest seemed to darken, and birds called out ominously as the trees themselves tried to pull them all under.

' _The forest does not like to release things it deems belong to it.'_

Yozak's own words echoed in his mind, and he cursed.

"Yozak!" Conrad called from behind him, the man's voice edged with hysteria, "I have an idea! Give me the reigns!"

Mind racing as another roar sounded and they were forced to dodge a fireball, Yozak untied the reigns and passed them to his passenger.

"FOLLOW ME!" Conrad bellowed to the riders still around them, and steered their horse sharply to the left.

The men still within earshot obliged, and altered their course. Anyone else was on their own.

"Where are we going?!" Yozak shouted above the winds, as Conrad looked being them to make sure Von Christ was still following.

"A hiding place of Yuuri's." Was the soldier's only answer.

Their sudden turn seemed to throw their fire-breathing pursuer off, and for several minutes they were left with only the angry forest below their feet to deal with as they pressed forward. Yozak unsheathed his sword and began to slice at roots and branches alike as they swung towards them. He felt a sharp piece of wood slice across his face, knowing that it had left a wound behind. Tsk, he was going to have to get more make-up after this.

"Remind me to  _never let you go out on your own again_!" Yozak scolded his companion as he continued to clear a path. "This is the last time I go on a rescue mission for you!"

If he looked behind him, he would have seen Conrad's grim smile.

Just as Yozak thought his arms were going to drop away from his body if he had to lift his sword again, Conrad turned their horse once more and slowed.

"We're here." Conrad said.

Yozak was about to ask what that was supposed to mean, the trees around them suddenly dropped away (and blessedly, the roots were forced to fall back as well) and a towering waterfall emerged, reaching high into the sky above them. A pool spread out at its base, though the lack of any river around it suggested the water went deeper into the earth.

The brown-haired Mazoku halted their steed at the edge of the pool, several riders pulling up beside them.

Yozak observed that they had lost a few riders in the chase, a sharp feeling stabbing at his heart.

"Behind the waterfall." Conrad instructed, quickly dismounting and walking to Von Christ to relieve the Mazoku of his double-black burden.

Despite the chaos that has just ensued, it actually appeared that Gunter had been successful in his attempt to heal the wounded teen. The young man was already regaining some color to his features, his breathing evened out greatly during the hard ride. The white-haired noble had concern written all over his face as he gazed down at his charge, before handing him over to the waiting Prince. Conrad pulled the young man into his arms, and then stepped into the pool.

They all followed suit, some of the men struggling to drag the battle-weary war horses in behind them.

"There's a small cavern in the side of this cliff—" The half-blood began to explain, but was promptly knocked over as they were all hit with a powerful gust of wind.

Forced to his knees in the pool, Yozak looked around wildly, only to see that they had finally been discovered by the coppery dragon, who now was attempting to knock them over with wind produced by the powerful flapping of her wings. And it was working: the soldiers and horses around him were forced to the ground at the foot of the waterfall, the hurricane-like winds making it impossible to stand.

The gap between the pool and the forest was too small for the dragon to land, but Gurrier was painfully aware that they were out in the open, vulnerable to a fire attack. Dread creeped into Yozak's mind as he felt like they had finally run out of time. Pinned to the ground, helpless, he and his men would die here…

Yozak's gaze turned, taking in the sight of Conrad sprawled over Yuuri, his friend attempting to protect the teen with his own body.

They had to abandon that boy. It was the only way they would survive.

The only way Conrad would survive.

Yozak gritted his teeth and gripped his sword, ready to tear Conrad away from this madness ( _he had done it before and would do it again_ ) and retreat into the waterfall. As he did so, the drache reared her head back, ready to spray them all with fire. It was now or never.

But before he could act, a strange thing happened.

The water began to agitate around him, beginning to pull at him.

Glancing beyond Conrad, something caught his eye: The double black was giving off the faintest blue glow. Furthermore, within mere seconds, it became apparent that he was the center of the vortex that was beginning to form.

"Yuuri…!" Conrad sounded shocked, gripping the groggy teen by the shoulders. "What are you—"

In the blink of an eye, the peaceful pool turned into a violent whirlpool, everyone within the water being dragged to the center, and then suddenly  _down, down down_ —

Yozak released a small sound of horror as the dragonfire hit the surface of the water just as he was pulled beneath it, something invisible gripping his feet. Everything around him suddenly became of little importance as the ground disappeared, and he found himself surrounded by endless water, hauling him deeper by the second.

Then there was a sharp tug at his gut, and everything went black.

* * *

Yozak came to with a shuddering gasp.

He was on his back, he realized, and quickly flipped over to heave up the water in his lungs. He was covered in the stuff, soaked to the bone.

He regained his senses quickly, as he was trained to do in times of danger. He quickly jumped to his feet, realizing he was now able to do so as he did it, and unsheathed his sword, ready to face the dragon, even if it meant his life.  _Conrad would survive_.

But the scenery around him had changed completely. Gone was the waterfall, the forest, the dragon. Instead, what he saw was so familiar that he almost did not quite recognize it.

He was in Shinou's temple.

Swinging around quickly, he found his men in varying states of recovery behind him, some on the ground around the stone courtyard, some actually within the fountain itself. Even the horses had made it, though they were jumping wildly in fear around the courtyard, the events of the day having been too much for them.

And there, in the middle of the fountain, was Conrad and Von Christ, working together to support the limp form of the double-black, who seemed now to be completely unconscious after his stunt. The young man seemed suddenly out of place, covered in dripping furs and feral attire.

Gunter looked positively stunned, if not a little waterlogged, as he also recognized the sights around him. By now the temple guards had noticed their prescense (ladies that Yozak had long admired), and they were already moving forward, intent on questioning the intruders.

"Halt!" A feminine voice called out fiercely, "Who goes there?!"

"Stand down!" Yozak ordered sharply, loathe to become involved in  _another_  conflict, "You are in the prescense of His Majesty, Prince Conrart!"

"The Prince!" the all-female guards gasped, and dropped to their knees, kneeling in respect.

"How…?" Gunter murmured, seemingly not believing his eyes. "We're…at the  _Temple_?"

All the adrenaline rushed out of Yozak then. They were back. They were alive, and they were safe at last. Gurrier couldn't help the sudden rush of giddiness that came over him, and he found himself laughing despite his aching body and stinging wounds.

"Yes,  _we're back_ , Lord von Christ!" Yozak replied mirthfully, "We're finally here, in the capital of Shin Makoku!"

It was still morning, but the dragon valley was far behind them. And before them, off in the distance, towered the grand and imposing silhouette of Blood Pledge Castle.


	6. The Son's Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Conrad's family probably (definitely) needs some therapy.

**?, Shin Makoku**

_The sound of Shouri's laughter drifting from the kitchen roused Yuuri from his nap on the living room couch. Drearily, Yuuri blinked open his eyes, as he continued to listen to his family share a noisy meal._

" _Honestly, Shocchan, I wasn't sure if you were going to be able to make it to lunch, today!"_

_An easy smile came to Yuuri's face at the sound of his mother's gentle voice. He was in no hurry to move, feeling quite at ease on top of the soft cushions. Instead he lazily traced his eyes along the scratches on the old room's ceiling, enchanted by the warm light playing on the windows. He took in the soft sounds of silverware scraping on his mother's porcelain plates and the faint murmurs of the distant Tokyo suburbs, feeling as if the world was slowly knitting itself back together after a long dream._

" _Tell me about it. Bob is such a slave-driver."_

" _You two are supposed to be taking a trip this afternoon, right?" His father, Shoma, spoke with a familiar tone – friendly, but with a hint of weariness that Yuuri remembered well. "To Sapporo, to meet with a local Mazoku council, right?"_

" _That's right." Shouri replied in between bites of food. Yuuri paused, sensing a sudden tension in the air._

_Likewise, there was a lull in his family's conversation, and for several long moments only the soft clinking of silverware could be heard. There was a distant rattle as a motorbike drove past their house, punctuating the silence._

" _Maoh training sure sounds hard." Jennifer murmured, a sudden tremble in her voice._

_Neither of the two men at the table spoke, as if they knew they had brought up a taboo that should have remained buried. All sounds from the kitchen had ceased._

_Frowning, Yuuri decided it was time for him to get up. If his brother and father were upsetting his mother, then he needed to be at her side to comfort her._

" _It all still feels like a bad dream…" Jennifer said distantly as Yuuri rolled off the couch and onto the floor._

_His body felt more sluggish than he had anticipated, his head throbbing dully with pain. As he stood, the room spun and seemed to drop away. He blinked, and the kitchen he anticipated to see was gone. Instead, endless black stretched in all directions. Even the couch had vanished._

" _What…"Yuuri whispered fearfully, flinching when his voice echoed in the emptiness._

"This  _is_  a bad dream, Yuuri _."_

_Yuuri spun, jumping at the sight of a ghostly woman sitting on the very couch that he had abandoned moments prior._

"One in very poor taste, I should say. _"_

_Yuuri could tell right away that she wasn't human – not completely, anyways. She shone faintly, illuminated by a light that had no source. Her hair was a pale color, laced with a stark-white streak. She was dressed simply, but her eyes were deep, unseeing. And yet, Yuuri was not afraid of her._

"Our time is short. _" She murmured softly, inviting him to take a seat at her side by gently gesturing to an empty spot on the couch._

_Instead, Yuuri remained still, watching the woman closely._

_The woman didn't seem bothered by this. Rather, she smiled softly._

"Where are you right now, Yuuri? _"_

"My house—" _Yuuri began to reply, before he was struck with a sudden feeling of vertigo. The woman wasn't speaking Japanese, and neither was he._  "No, the dragon woods…no…not there, either…"

_Yuuri's face twisted in confusion. He brought his hands of slowly and cradled his head, which seemed to throb more strongly._

"Where is my house?"  _Yuuri asked, his voice sounding pitiful even to himself. The woman was not smiling, anymore._

"You haven't been home in over ten years."  _The Mazoku woman said quietly as Yuuri sank to the ground, realizing it himself._ "Not physically, at least."

"So my family earlier-"

"Was not completely a dream, no."

 _The woman had slipped from the couch and_   _now kneeled in front of him, her face one of immeasurable sadness. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, softly setting her cheek on the crown of his head._

"I'm so sorry this has happened to you." _The ghostly woman breathed the words into his hair, her voice barely above a whisper._  "And I'm sorry for what  _will_  happen. But I have to tell you – it's starting. You've begun to uncover memories that  _He_  buried, and His plans have been set in motion."

_Yuuri moaned, the pain in his head increasing. He felt like he was being ripped in half._

_The woman's voice, meanwhile, was becoming more distant, and more insistent._

"You cannot survive this alone, Yuuri."  _Her hands became firm on his shoulders._ "That's what He wants – for you to be alone. You and the Mazoku  _have_  to work together, otherwise He will kill you. It was all I could do to put Conr—"

_Yuuri screamed as the ground (at least, he thought it was the ground) suddenly shook under his feet, and a mighty roar sounded in his head. The woman gave a brief, distressed glance over her shoulder, before returning her eyes to Yuuri and disappearing like a candle flame burning out._

_He was not alone, however. The nothingness around him seemed to quiver as mighty drumbeats overcame his senses-giant footsteps, he realized. Then, a voice like a sonicboom filled his mind, making him scream again._

**STOP MEDDLING, VON WINCOTT.**

_The words were too much for Yuuri. Weakly, his eyes rolled up into his head –catching a glimpse of a flash of gold and piercing blue eyes- and he dropped downwards like a stone._

* * *

**Blood Pledge Castle, Shin Makoku**

Conrad sighed wearily, returning to his seat at Yuuri's bedside after an unsuccessful search for food in Gisela's offices. He eyed the door, knowing that Gwendal, or maybe even his mother, would be walking through it any minute now.

His stomach growled, sounding almost as unhappy as he felt about that prospect.

He had been hiding in the castle infirmary since his group had arrived there, after a brief trek from the Temple and through the secret tunnels through the capitol that were reserved exclusively for royal use. In so many words, he had told Yosak and Gunter that he would not be joining them for the mission debriefing – instead, he volunteered to watch over their unresponsive patient, who had been unconscious after somehow moving them to the Capitol through a watery portal.

Conrad knew that Gwendal would want to speak with him, regardless.

Unfortunately, Conrad was not in the mood to speak to his brother of his failure to keep his troops alive, or his failure to report in after missing for several weeks. Even less so about how a double-black had avoided detection on Shin Makoku sacred ground for  _years_.

Even so, he felt almost guilty that he would be dragging his brother away from his duties as the Maoh's proxy. Almost.

As if on cue, there was a solid knock on the closed doors of the infirmary.

Conrad hesitated to answer, and his eldest brother took that moment of hesitation for what it was.

"You can send your spy friend in your place for only so long," Gwendal's rough voice sounded from the hallway, "You cannot hide forever, Conrart."

"Enter." Conrad called out angrily. The door opened without delay, admitting his brother. "Who's hiding?" Conrad fixed Gwendal with an agitated stare as the charcoal haired Mazoku advanced, alone, into the infirmary.

" _You_  are." Gwendal replied evenly, his voice not betraying the annoyance he no-doubt felt. "From me, from your duties, from your country-" his blue eyes drifted down to the sleeping form of Yuuri as he drew closer, "-for almost two months, in fact."

Gwendal reached out and grasped a chair, pulling it up to the foot of Yuuri's bed, facing Conrad.

"Can you blame me?" was the only response Conrad could muster. Pain bloomed in his chest as he remembered the last time he and his oldest brother had spoken.

Gwendal sat heavily in his chair.

"…No." Gwendal replied morosely. He casted his eyes downward and pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly remembering as well.

For a few tense moments, Conrad watched his brother. Gwendal had always been a man of cleanliness, but his uniform was wrinkled – he had probably been wearing it for a couple of days. His dark hair was greasy and unkempt, and there were bags under his stern eyes. When his mother had been Maoh, she had had that look about her, too.

It was the look of a Maoh at war.

Gwendal was not the Maoh – not officially at least. But neither was their mother, not anymore. Not after she had nearly gotten Conrad killed, and resigned her duties as a consequence. Not after Stoffel had used her, and had been excommunicated as a result. Celi would never be queen again.

Unofficially, though, Gwendal was the closest thing to a Maoh that Shin Makoku had right now. It was he who had negotiated a ceasefire with the humans, and established a loose peace with their neighboring nations – a peace that was slowly falling apart as tensions rose. It was Gwendal who had done his best to put the pieces of their country back together.

 _It was Gwendal who banished you from the castle, after you returned from your mission to Earth as angry as ever and unwilling to help bridge the rift between mazokus and half-bloods_.

His mind had a way of reminding him of unpleasant things at inconvenient times.

"Who is this boy?" Gwendal murmured, eyes falling on Yuuri.

"His name is Yuuri." Conrad had gotten used to saying those four words over the past two days. "Big Cimmaron seems to think he will be the next Maoh."

 _That_  made Gwendal pause.

There was no doubt that Yuuri had the look – Gisela had been forced to cut his bushy hair to treat and wrap the head wound, which had been deeper than von Christ had initially thought. The dirt, too, had been scrubbed from the young man's face. Gunter's adopted daughter had voiced her surprise at just how much mud was caked on the double-black, and had had the maids wash him. Under the layers of grime, Gisela had uncovered a delicate-looking young man, with sun-tanned skin and soft hair.

Lying amongst the white sheets, sleeping with a peaceful face and noble demeanor, Conrad had to admit that Yuuri looked quite kingly.

"Von Christ, too, voiced his impressions of him. He was under the impression that this boy was…something quite extraordinary."

Gwendal flicked his blue eyes over to Conrad, and Conrad shrugged. He knew not what Gunter had told his brother of Yuuri.

"He is the one who rescued you in the Drache Woods?" Gwendal asked, leaning back in his chair.

"That's right…though perhaps he should have not."

"I don't have time for your self-pity." Gwendal growled, his fists clenching. "How did your party fall? Yosak reported that you were the only survivor."

Conrad nodded tersely, the bite in Gwendal's words causing the words to momentarily wither in his throat.

" _Well?_ "

"We were dealing with some poachers, My Lord. The dragon they were hunting ambushed us as we fought. We were overwhelmed."

" _Were_  they poachers? The soldiers that Von Christ's squadron encountered certainly were not."

Conrad frowned, trying to recall that day. He remembered the fire and the screams well enough, but the enemy soldiers…?

"They had Big Cimmaron accents." Conrad reported. "Though they could have been from Small Cimmaron, as well. Their accents can be hard to distinguish even during peaceful functions."

Gwendal hummed thoughtfully, the hard line of his mouth set in a displeased frown, and blessedly he did not ask any more questions about Conrad's squadron. Instead, the Maoh-proxy returned his attention back to Yuuri.

"Bring him to my office when he awakens." Gwendal said in a voice that suggested he was not asking. The man rose from his chair to leave. "I wish to speak with him when he is able."

"Err, Gwendal- Lord von Voltaire, that is…" Conrad didn't know how to explain to his brother that Yuuri wasn't exactly… _civilized_. He wasn't even sure the boy could speak their language, for Shinou's sake!

"Conrart." Gwendal silenced his younger brother with the murmur of his name.

Conrad's mouth clamped closed, shocked at the sudden emotion in his sibling's voice. Gwendal was not facing him, however, and he could not see the man's face.

"…I am relieved that you have returned safely."

The half-blood Mazoku was struck speechless at Gwendal's words, and all thoughts were wiped from his mind.

"Our mother is, too. She has been anxious to speak with you."

Conrad stared at the ground, trying and failing to block out the harsh words he had exchanged with the former-Maoh before he had run for the hills two years ago, quite literally. Still, living with Yuuri for so long had made it clear to him that he needed to reconcile with his family, before he lost them entirely.

Gwendal cleared his throat one final time, then moved for the door. Conrad rose quickly and advanced a few steps, planning to follow his brother, but the older man got to the doors first and opened them – revealing a very distraught-looking Celi standing in the hallway.

 _Oh_.

"Conrart…" Celi's voice trembled as she laid eyes on her son.

"Mother." Conrad replied as pleasantly as he could, his eyes following Gwendal, who could not get away fast enough, out the door and down the hallway.

The petite, blonde-haired woman all but ran into the room, her hands shakily reaching up to Conrad's face, before she ultimately wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. He gently wrapped his arms around her, taking momentary pleasure in the warmth of contact. He had missed this.

"Oh, my handsome son…I've missed you so much."

"The pleasure is all mine, Mother." Conrad picked his words carefully, knowing that the woman was already on the verge of tears as it was.

He drew her away from his chest carefully, taking in the sight of her. He frowned upon discovering that the already thin woman had become even thinner, almost gaunt. She wore more modest clothes over her voluptuous form as if to hide this fact, but the strangeness of it served to draw more attention to it if at all. Her deep green eyes seemed large on her proportionally smaller face, and as expected, they were brimming with tears.

Cecile looked over her shoulder towards the hallway, as if looking for something that wasn't there.

"Wolfram, come greet your brother this instant!"

Whatever happiness Conrad felt at seeing his mother again vanished at the mention of his younger brother's name. No wonder Gwendal had left so quickly.

With a loud huff, Wolfram emerged in the doorway, no doubt angered that his hiding place in the hallway had been betrayed. There was no way he had come willingly-Celi must have forced him along. The young Mazoku was still the spitting image of his mother despite the passing years, though his eyes were vastly different from the former-queen's. Where Celi looked upon Conrad with love and concern, Wolfram glared at him with disgust and anger.

Conrad was no stranger to such emotions.

"Finally returned from your little vacation, have you?" Wolfram growled, eliciting a distraught gasp from their mother.

"Wolfram!" Celi reprimanded with a quaver in her voice, "He almost died!"

"Which was his own damn fault!" Wolfram's voice was dripping with poison. "He should have been here, helping Gwendal."

" _He-_!"

"You're right." Conrad interrupted his mother, and the two golden-haired mazokus spun to face him. "I should have been here. I let my feelings get the best of me."  _I'm sorry_ , he wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come out. What had happened to his comrades was a crime.

"How  _dare_  you!" Wolfram raged, pushing past his mother to get closer to Conrad. Celi reached out to stop him, but this was not the first time the brothers had argued like this. She let him pass. "I can stand you slacking off, I can  _barely_  stomach you using your  _half-blood_  status to go off to war and play hero, but…!"

Wolfram was breathing heavily as he stepped in front of Conrad. Conrad could see that his youngest brother was losing control of his emotions, his anger lashing out. The young Mazoku pushed hard against the half-blood's chest, causing Conrad to stumble backwards a step into Yuuri's bed frame.

"Traipsing off to the boondocks and Shinou-knows-where and leaving us to deal with a broken country and a war? For  _two years?! How dare you!"_

Wolfram pushed him again, and this time the whole bed shook. Conrad threw a worried glance over his shoulder at the sleeping Yuuri, suddenly worried that their argument would wake him.

" _Look at me!_ " Wolfram snarled.

The moment Conrad returned his gaze back to his brother, Wolfram punched him.

Conrad winced at the sharp pain in his face and stumbled sideways as Celi gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Stop it!" she cried.

It was at that moment that Yuuri decided to come to.

All eyes fell to the double-black as he shot up in bed with a strangled gasp. His chest was heaving and he was covered in sweat, his black hair plastered to his head and his eyes shooting about the room. Conrad could see instantly that the young man was disoriented and not himself.

But before the soldier could do anything, Yuuri's eyes settled onto the scene before him.

The feral teen seemed to take in Conrad leaning heavily against the bed opposite him, the half-mazoku's lip bloody. Then his eyes flicked up to Wolfram, who loomed over Conrad with a furious face and a raised fist, adorned with bloody knuckles.

In an instant, Yuuri was standing amongst the sheets. Conrad recognized the look on his face – it was the same look Yuuri had had on his face before taking on the red dragon that almost killed Conrad.

Conrad's heart jumped into his throat.

"No!" Conrad gasped as he struggled to stand, but he was too late.

Yuuri snarled and threw himself at Wolfram.


	7. Birthrights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's first self introduction goes smashing.

**Blood Pledge Castle, Shin Makoku**

When Yuuri became aware of himself, the first thing he noticed was the familiar feeling of flesh tearing between his teeth.

There was a shrill noise in his ears, his vision ringed with red – but the sensation of ripping skin and the wetness of warm blood on his chin was almost comforting in its familiarity.

But the ringing in his ears abided, and the sound of screaming hit him full force. His vision swimming, Yuuri reached out with his magic, sending it out like a pulse to take in his situation. In a second he had mapped out the room – the warm body beneath him, writhing and cursing; a woman standing in front of him, screaming ( _should have bitten her, so_ noisy); and a looming prescense behind him.

Yuuri felt a sickening rush of panic. He did not know where he was.

"Bastard! Get off-!"

In his panic, he had loosened his hold on the boy beneath him. Yuuri's eyes snapped downwards, catching a flash of yellow hair-

_(The words were too much for Yuuri. Weakly, his eyes rolled up into his head –catching a glimpse of a flash of gold and piercing blue eyes.)_

Two things happened then. Firstly, the presence behind him stepped forward, clamping a hand like steel around his shoulder and another against his throat. It pulled him up and away, snaking slender fingers up and around his jaw, prying his mouth open with unexpected gentleness.

Secondly, there was an angry hiss from beneath him, accompanied by a flash of fire shooting past his face and burning his cheek.

The bruising hands and blistering heat brought a surge of memories to the front of his mind.

_Dragons, soldiers, sunlight, metal, Conrad, PAIN._

His head throbbed painfully as if reminding him of the towering soldier who wounded him in the valley, and suddenly he knew he needed to get away.

With a panicked grunt, Yuuri snapped his feet backward, catching the one who held him in the chest. He heard a whoosh of air and knew he had knocked the breath from his captor. Using the momentum of his kick, he propelled himself forward and rolled over the magic-user on the floor.

Suddenly free, he sent out another pulse of magic and located the nearest escape – a door behind the woman who had been screaming, and was now advancing upon him with a look of determination on her face. He could sense the heat building around her fingers, and knew she was a fire-user as well.

Before he could act, she thrust her hand out and a whip-like tendril of fire cracked towards him, causing him to spin and dodge the attack that would have surely caught his bare feet.

He slid as he landed, faintly noting that the woman had forced him away from the boy now rising from the ground, shoulder bloodied. He could sense the third occupant of the room recovering as well.

His head throbbed dully, a grim reminder of what was to come if he didn't escape.

Yuuri pulled at the strings of magic around the blonde woman and stripped them away. As the fire forming around her hands flowed obediently to Yuuri, the woman's look of determination flashed to one of confusion and fear.

With a roar, Yuuri stoked the flames circling him with a burst of violent wind. Powerless, the woman sank to her knees and covered her head as the windows in the room rattled, the beds were thrown to the far walls, and any objects not tethered down were swept up in Yuuri's fiery vortex.

"Yuuri, no-!"

Ignoring the choked shout behind him, Yuuri charged the door and threw his power out, concentrating the vortex and blowing the door off its hinges.

The door led to a hallway beyond, filled with the sounds of shouts and clanking armor.

Yuuri hissed in frustration, sensing that through the smoke, a larger host of magic-users were coming. Before he could locate an escape, a large and tan hand thrusted through the smoke and grabbed him by the collar of his loose shirt.

"Just what do you think you're doing!" A deep voice belonging to a grey-haired demon with piercing blue eyes growled.

"Let go!" Yuuri spat, gripping the man's arm and using his magic to fling his attacker into a wall of emerging soldiers.

"Lord von Voltaire!"

Storm clouds began to build outside as Yuuri's fear began to surge, as did the number soldiers surrounding him.

A chill went down his spine, and he spun to the side as a blast of flame narrowly missed him and hit the wall behind him.

Yuuri glanced at the singed wallpaper, and somewhere deep inside, regretted the loss of such finery.

_Maybe biting him had been a bad idea after all._

"New Maoh, my  _ass_!" The blonde boy advanced upon him, icy blue eyes stormy filled to the brim with cold fury. Rivers of fire seemed to pour from his hands and snake along the ground towards Yuuri, licking at the smooth marble tiles of the floors.

"Wolfram,  _enough_!" A familiar voice cried, falling on deaf ears.

It was only when the blonde woman placed a firm hand on Wolfram's shoulder and yanked him back that he stopped his advance.

Yuuri could feel eyes on him, intense stares sizing him up. In his forest, he was used to being the predator. Now, more than anything, he felt like a wounded rabbit among a pack of wolves.

Unable to shake his unnatural fear of the men around him, Yuuri knew it was time to leave this place.

"I do not want to hurt anyone." Yuuri began, "Release me…"

His voice died in his chest as his head throbbed and an overwhelming feeling of familiarity bubbled up inside him. In a heartbeat, the halls around him no longer seemed frightening, only welcoming. It was the same feeling he felt when he had dreamed of his family.

The feeling that he had returned  _home_.

Yuuri shuddered violently and threw his hand out behind him, releasing a pure wave of power that caused the wall behind him to crumple inwards as easily as paper, before it seemed to crumble and snap away with a loud hollow sound. The fire from Wolfram swept past him and was sucked into the new gaping hole, harmlessly dissipating in the afternoon air.

Everything seemed to freeze then, as the onlookers held their breath in anticipation of his next move. The soldiers and magic-users alike were still. The blonde woman and Wolfram were standing warily were the doors of the large room had been, watching him with tense bodies. The grey-haired man, Gwendal, was nowhere to be seen. From the shadows of the room stumbled Conrad, hair messy and nose bloody. The man had fearful eyes – though rather than being scared  _of_  Yuuri, he seemed almost scared  _for_  Yuuri.

While Yuuri would normally have calmed instantly at the sight of Conrad, the icy hand gripping his heart squeezed impossibly tight at the sight of the ex-soldier. It was all too much to process. Yuuri barely registered the mask of confusion that passed over Conrad's face before he launched himself out of the hole.

Wind whipped at his hair and stung his face as he fell. The tower he was in had been so tall, he had a moment to take in the enormous castle around him before he twisted in midair like a cat would.

Fire erupted from the soles of Yuuri's feet, barely slowing his descent in time before he hit the ground of a dusty courtyard. His ankles creaked painfully as he stood – running would be harder now. The beautiful greenery of the garden around him escaped his notice; instead, he silently cursed when he saw that castle walls still surrounded him on all sides.

He was still  _trapped_.

Once again his memories of the dragon valley swam before his eyes: The clanging metal, the distant roar of the copper dragon as she tumbled to the valley floor, the subsequent shaking of the ground beneath his feet. The memory seemed to come alive before his eyes. Soldiers began to pour from every doorway, and again the ground began to shake.

To his left the demon Gwendal had appeared, looking winded but determined.

The demon cast a hand outwards-

The dusty earth beneath Yuuri shuddered, before earthen spikes began to shoot upwards around him. Yuuri twisted and dodged with the fluidity of water, but it didn't escape his notice that Gwendal was trying to herd him towards the soldiers.

Yuuri bared his teeth as the wind picked up, and a flash of lighting illuminated the quickly darkening courtyard.

"Don't toy with me!" Yuuri snarled.

Rain began to fall.

The familiar blue strings of Yuuri's magic began to flare around him, and the hiss of the rain became the hiss of towering watery serpent-like dragons. The water-beasts snarled threateningly at Yuuri's attackers, causing even the demon Gwendal to pale and back away.

Exhaustion tugged sharply at Yuuri. He fought to stay awake, ignoring the wetness of his clothes that clung to his body and the way his heart thundered in his chest.

In his brief moment of respite, he noticed he was breathing hard, too hard.

"Where am I!?" Yuuri called to the soldiers as his snakes hovered protectively around him. "What do you want!"

No one answered him. Instead they all remained fixated on his dragons, jumping imperceptibly with every flash of lighting.

Silently, they drew their swords.

* * *

_Fear_.

The air stank with it - it hung over all present like a cloud, Yuuri only noticing its ominous presence with the heightened senses his magic provided him. He felt it in himself as well, feeding off of his emotions like a leech. There was something dark about this, a feeling of wrongness that soaked into the soul of everything it touched. It was an old feeling – Yuuri could sense dark tendrils coiled deep into the earth.

With barely a twitch, Yuuri flared his magic and scorched the darkness out of himself, like cauterizing a wound. Instantly he felt the icy hand around his heart release, and the fearful tightness that had gripped his chest all but disappeared.

He was only given a brief moment of respite before the darkness in the air tried to once again close around him, choke him. Burning it away was a continuous process for Yuuri, tiring him further.

"Just what kind of place is this," Yuuri stuttered, the exhaustion and cold finally affecting him. All eyes snapped to him. "What evil have you allowed to live here?"

"Evil?" Gwendal growled, his hand tightening on his sword.

"Can you not feel it?" Yuuri replied, waving a hand wearily in gesture to the air around him. "A darkness plagues this place."

The soldiers glanced at each other, their swords lowering marginally. In the distance, Conrad emerged from the building on his left, followed closely by Wolfram and his party.

Yuuri took strength from Conrad's prescense. To think he had been blinded by fear and wounded the man… Now that he had calmed, it was obvious to him that these men and women were with Conrad. Feeling the danger had passed, Yuuri's adrenaline began to seep away, as did his strength.

"Yes…" Yuuri continued, voice barely louder than the tapering rain, "this castle is like a festering wound. But no matter."

"I will fix it for you."

He voice that emerged from Yuuri then was not his own. It was deep and old, echoing with power.

Yuuri felt himself fading, sinking to his knees. The water dragons lost their forms and splashed onto the ground, the sound of their disintegrating bodies lost among the sounds of the rain. Conrad's startled cry called out his name before Yuuri closed his eyes.

The last thing Yuuri felt before succumbing to sleep was a tremendous boom of force that cracked and shook the wet earth.

* * *

**Blood Pledge Castle, Shin Makoku**

"Throw him in the dungeons!" Wolfram snarled, slamming the door behind him as he arrived in Gwendal's office, where the rest of the royal family and advisors were gathered.

Conrart sighed agitatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Don't give me that!" Wolfram wheeled on Conrart, throwing a scathing scowl at his brother. "That bastard  _bit_  me!"

Conrart glanced at the fresh bandage on his youngest brother's arm, barely peeking out from under the collar of his tunic.

"I think you'll survive." Gwendal growled from behind his desk, head bowed over a piece of parchment he was in the process of signing ( _Never a moment's rest for that man_ , Conrart thought). "Plus, let's not pretend you haven't been deserving of it of late."

Conrart could hear the click of teeth as Wolfram's mouth snapped shut, barely concealing a smile at the sight of Wolfram's indignant rage. But if there was one person in the kingdom that Wolfram respected, it was Gwendal – no smart words would be thrown his eldest brother's way anytime soon.

"Boys." Cecile sighed, leaning against Gwendal's desk and looking quite weary.

It'd been a long time since his mother had used so much maryoku. However, though it pained Conrart to see Celi so worn, he couldn't help but feel warm at the memory of her fiercely wielding fire to protect Wolfram. While she had briefly fought Yuuri, she had become "Golden Cecile" once again.

In those few seconds, she had looked like a Maoh.

"Let us discuss the events of this afternoon." Gwendal quipped, moving his papers to the side and folding his hands on his desk.

"Such a brilliant display of maryoku!" Gunter sighed happily, a dreamy look on his face.

To say Conrart was perturbed by the change in his mentor would be an understatement.

In the courtyard, after Yuuri collapsed, he had done…something. A massive wave of maryoku had hit them all, shaking to foundations of the castle to its very roots. Conrart felt no difference, but his family who could use magic attested that the air seemed…cleaner. Knowing Yuuri, Conrart guessed he had purified the grounds, much like his soul had been purified after he had been injured in the Drache Woods.

And indeed, Conrart could see some difference in the people around him. Celi looked less depressed despite her weariness; Wolfram seemed more alive, less focused on his internalized anger. Gwendal's shoulders didn't droop so low, though they were still burdened with the heavy duty of caring for the kingdom.

And Gunter… Gunter had lost his mind, to say the least. Gone was the serious man who had whipped Conrart into shape in the Academy, and in his place was an aloof advisor who was seemingly infatuated with Yuuri.

"That young man must surely be the next Maoh!" Gunter continued, seeking agreement in the faces of his peers.

Eyes turned to Conrart, as if awaiting his words on the matter.

"…Yuuri is indeed powerful." Conrart acquiesced, "But he is hardly fit for the court."

Memories of Yuuri tackling a wolf to the ground, swimming half naked, and climbing trees came to the forefront of his mind. He couldn't help but smile as he thought of Yuuri dressed to the nines in royal garb, attacking a noble's fluffy hat that he had mistook for a rabbit.

Conrart coughed into his fist to hide his chuckle, and said no more.

Gwendal glowered at Conrart, clearly displeased at his light-hearted attitude and lack of helpfulness. Conrart wasn't particularly bothered – Gwendal had ways of gathering information without Conrart's help..

"If you have nothing else to say," Gwendal waved a hand towards Conrart, and then the door, "go check on your ward and make sure he doesn't go on a rampage when he wakes up –  _again_."

Conrart shrugged and made for the door, choosing to ignore Wolfram's cold stare.

He smiled at his mother and touched her arm comfortingly for a moment before departing the room.

He was down the hallway and around the corner before he was confronted by another familiar face. However, this was one he was much more pleased to see.

"Captain." Yozak greeted, pausing and giving Conrart curt bow in unneeded respect.

"Gurrier." Conrart shot back, giving his old friend a lop-sided smile. "Just the man I was hoping to see."

Yozak gave a lazy smile and rested his hands on his hips, dropping all formalities.

"Not a 'man' day today, I'm afraid. Where are you headed?"

"I've been ordered to keep an eye on Yuuri. We don't exactly want a repeat of today, do we?"

Conrart began to move again, and Yozak walked in step beside him, clearly intent on escorting the soldier to Yuuri's location.

Gisela had been forced to relocate until the infirmary could be repaired. Much of her furniture and supplies had been smashed to pieces, and of course her doors were beyond repair. Yuuri, along with a few men with minor injuries from the event earlier that day, had been relocated to an empty wing in the depths of the castle.

"Lord von Voltaire has assigned me a mission, by the way," Yozak said lightly, "I'm heading to Big Cimmaron tomorrow. You probably won't see my beautiful face around these parts for a while."

"That is quite tragic." Conrart murmured, smirking.

Yozak punched him lightly on the arm, faking anger.

"You looking for a fight?" Yozak growled, blue eyes flashing playfully, "I'll kick your ass."

Conrart had missed this, joking around with his friend. He had banished himself for so long in the Drache Woods, any hope of fitting in in the Capitol again lost. He knew he would have to patch things up with his friend, and even more so with his family. But ever since he had me Yuuri, he could feel the change within himself like a physical force. He felt the desire to  _try_  again.

"Sorry, I don't hit girls." Conrart teased, flashing a wicked grin. "Maybe tomorrow."

Yozak gave an indignant scoff and cuffed Conrart over the back of the head, before they both began to chuckle.

Yes, things were changing.

* * *

**Shinou's Temple, Shin Makoku**

"Halt!" a feminine voice cried, drawing the attentions of the female guards posted around the courtyard of their sacred temple. "Who goes there!?"

No one answered, the eerie silence of the evening stretching on. The warriors around the guard caption glanced at each other, unsure of what had caused the disturbance. Nothing seemed to be amiss, nothing out of the ordinary could be seen, and the only sound to be heard was the quiet bubbling of the fountain at the center of the courtyard. The encroaching darkness made the dimly lit area hard to see, but the captain was sure she had heard something-

There it was again,  _sloshing_. The fountain of the courtyard contained running water, but this sound was different.

Immediately the guards were advancing upon the fountain, spears lowered and glinting orange in the firelight. The ringed the fountain, surrounding the shadowy figure that had just emerged, seemingly from nowhere, out of the water.

"Woah! Woah, ladies." A boyish voice chuckled, laced with nervousness and a twinge of fear. The shadowy figure raised his hands defensively. "I'm happy to see you too, but this is not how I imagined our reunion."

"Who are you?" the guard captain frowned in displeasure, "males are not permitted here. You are trespassing."

"He is-!" a voice cried out.

Reflexively, the female warriors sank to their knees at the arrival of Ulrike, the head priestess of the temple. The spears clattered as they dropped, a sign of respect for someone so holy.

Ulrike advanced forward, torch grasped in her small hands. She crossed the courtyard towards the trespasser without hesitation.

"My lady, you must not get so close-!"

But Ulrike ignored the warning, stopping to stand before the young man.

A smiling face was illuminated by the firelight. More noticeably however was the young man's black hair, and even blacker eyes that seemed to swallow the firelight behind his round glasses.

Murata Ken smiled, extending a friendly hand towards the small priestess.

"It's been too long, Ulrike."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original ffnet Note:
> 
> "A few notes about this chapter. (1) Celi needs more badass moments because she's the Maoh and deserves to be treated as such. (2) Gwendal is probably just as sick of Wolfram as everyone else is lol. (3) I promise Gunter isn't going to be like he is in the anime because he is such a complex character and needs more development. (4)Gender-fluid Yosak! Because yay queer characters!"


	8. I am Yuuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some talks are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On ffnet this chapter was originally divided into two parts. I have combined them here.

**Blood Pledge Castle, Shin Makoku**

Yuuri was in a decidedly terrible mood. After fainting twice in one day and making enemies out of an entire castle-full of people, he doubted it could get better…but he knew it could get worse, oh so much worse. Not even the fact that he was currently in Conrad's home could cheer him up – undoubtedly the man himself would be at his bedside any moment now to untie him.

And Yuuri didn't know how he felt about that.

Looking very morose and feeling quite glum, he half-heartedly fiddled with the chains around his wrists. The second time he had woken up, merely a few minutes ago, he had been in his right mind – it was clear to him now that something (or someone) had been working some strange magic over him. He knew he was safe, wherever he was, and that the soldiers he could hear recovering in the next room were no threat to him. He remembered vividly the mayhem he had caused upon his first awakening. Guiltily he recalled attacking innocent people…and Conrad. He deserved to be chained to his bed right now, and probably warranted much worse. He wishes they had given him worse.

Just as he swore to himself that he would be on his best behavior from now on, there was a delicate knock at the door to his very small and dark chambers. Yuuri watched silently as the door swung open, and Conrad ducked into the room with the look of a man trying not to get caught, holding a lit candle in one hand and a bowl in the other.

"Oh-!" Conrad started as he realized Yuuri was awake and watching him, stiffening imperceptibly in nervousness as the door swung closed behind him and reduced the room to a sharp contrast of orange candlelight and shadows. Despite the dimness, Yuuri could see the beginnings of a bruise on Conrad's cheekbone.

Yuuri frowned deeply.

"I'm glad to see—" Conrad paused, " _I'm glad to see you're awake…_ " After failing to elicit a response from Yuuri, Conrad stopped talking entirely, evidently unsure of what language he was supposed to use.

It was a surprise to them both that Yuuri had been able to speak the language of the Demon Kingdom when Yuuri had first woken up in the castle. Yuuri had been deeply shocked at this realization when he woke the second time, and didn't trust himself to speak any further. Conrad, on the other hand, seemed to be rethinking everything he knew about Yuuri entirely. The double-black's gut twisted sharply when he wondered if Conrad trusted him anymore. Frankly, he didn't even trust himself.

Conrad sighed so quietly that Yuuri nearly missed it, and pulled a chair up the Yuuri's bedside.

" _I brought you some soup_." Conrad said, apparently deciding Japanese was safest, " _And I have some clean clothes if you want them, though Gisela already saw to them when you were asleep."_

Conrad gingerly held the soup out for Yuuri to take. Yuuri, unable to muster any words for his friend, dropped his gaze down and away and meekly held up his wrists for Conrad's inspection.

"Oh!" Conrad looked altogether sheepish and annoyed when he spotted the shackles on Yuuri's hands, and hurriedly put the soup down to begin fiddling with the chains solidly secured to the bed posts. "I can't believe they though these were necessary, really, I'm so sorry, Yuuri…"

For a very long and intensely awkward minute, Yuuri watched Conrad wrestle with the chains around the bed. Yuuri suspected the shackles and chains had magic dampening abilities - they were loose enough to allow Yuuri to lay down and weren't uncomfortable by any means, but they were thick enough and tight enough to ensure that he wouldn't be going anywhere by himself.

Finally, with two loud  _clanks_ , Yuuri was no longer tied to the bed. The shackles were still locked tight around his wrists, but now nothing could stop him as he bent down, scooped the bowl into his lap, and began slurping the broth noisily straight from the dish. Small bits of rabbit had settled at the bottom of the bowl – he devoured them wolfishly and fought the shudder that threatened to quiver down his spine when he tasted the deliciously seasoned meat.

Conrad watched him with the beginnings of a wry smile. Rather than comforting Yuuri, however, the smile just made him self-conscious.

He was a stranger to finery, but he knew it when he saw it. It surrounded him now, and it was alien to him – but it wasn't to Conrad. Conrad had been born to this, he could tell. The man seemed perfectly at ease in the sparse but massive room, wearing finely stitched (though simple) clothes and glistening boots.

Yuuri had never felt more like an animal.

…And now he felt worse.

Yuuri set the empty bowl against his lap and turned his gaze to the ex-soldier, shoulders slumping somewhat in a 'what now?' gesture.

Conrad frowned slightly, and glanced over his shoulder at the door.

" _My brother wants to see you now that you're awake_. _"_ He said by way of response, and turned back to Yuuri. " _I'll take you to him, now_."

Yuuri grimaced, momentarily overwhelmed by the thought that he was going to have to  _meet_  people, and in a  _castle_ no less; however, he eventually coalesced after he reasoned that Conrad would be at his side the whole time.

He turned and swung his feet out from under the covers of his temporary bed. Conrad had been right – he was dressed in fresh clothes. Gone were his old rags and animals skins, now replaced with dark leggings that stretched down to his ankles, and a soft cotton tunic which cinched at his elbows and tied around his collar bone. It was nothing compared to what Conrad was wearing, but it was the finest thing Yuuri could ever remember wearing. His hair was shorter now, too, he noticed. He felt a brief moment of dissociation, like he wasn't himself anymore.

Conrad stepped forward, offering him a pair of plain slip-on shoes. Yuuri eyeballed them, not realizing for several seconds that he was supposed to put them  _on_. When he did, he frowned.

" _No_."

" _I'm sorry?"_  Conrad replied, both eyebrows raised in confusion, " _Is something wro-"_

_"_ _No_." Yuuri repeated and stood, pointedly ignoring the shoes.

He paused when the chains were dragged behind off the bed and clanked noisily along the floor behind him. He stared at Conrad, who only stared back at him. It became painfully obvious that his ex-soldier friend did not have the keys for the shackles, and suddenly Yuuri felt overcome with exasperation and weariness. He felt his eyes sting the tiniest bit.

Biting off a long-suffering sigh, Yuuri began to jerkily wrap the chains around his forearms so that they would not drag behind him as he walked. As he was about to proceed out the door, Conrad gently laid a hand on his shoulder, then dropped a heavy brown jacket across his shoulders. Glancing back, Yuuri realized that the jacket was his own – the tall half-blood was now dressed down to a white shirt. Yuuri's chest swelled the slightest amount when he realized Conrad's jacket completely covered the chains around his arms.

Even now, Conrad was protecting him.

* * *

As Yuuri and Conrad made their way across the castle, they received many odd looks from all sorts of people. Some of the soldiers posted in the corridors stared openly with mistrust, while others were more secretive with their stares but equally suspicious. Many people shrank away from him, like he was something feral who was going to bite.

Yuuri walked rigidly, unable to shake the feeling that he needed to run. But Conrad's hand was a constant anchor on his lower back, not letting him shrink away or flee when he wanted to most.

At the beginning of their trek, Conrad had pulled aside a runner. The ex-soldier had requested that the man "assemble the members of the council", whatever that was supposed to mean. However, Conrad had glanced Yuuri's way – Yuuri, who had been hiding behind Conrad like a scared rabbit at the time – and added "make it fast" to the end of his message.

Now, the longer they seemed to walk through the castle, the more nervous Yuuri became. Despite the fact that it seemed Conrad was taking him down less-used hallways, more than once Conrad had pulled the double-black aside into an empty chamber and allowed him to recover for a minute before resuming. But now that the pair stood outside a very large and heavy door, apparently at their destination, Yuuri found himself shaking. Yuuri half-expected Conrad to say "You've fought off dragons before, Yuuri, you can do this!", or, "My brother is the nicest guy in the castle, no need to worry!" But if anything, the brown haired mazoku looked just as displeased to be there, and offered no words of comfort to Yuuri.

Conrad reached out a hand and tentatively knocked on the door.

"Enter." Replied the deepest voice Yuuri had ever heard.

Conrad pushed open the door and entered, leaving his companion hanging back warily in the hallway for a quick second before he reached behind him and pulled Yuuri in by the collar of his shirt.

As Yuuri was dragged into the (thankfully empty) office, his eyes immediately fell to the only occupant of the room – a tall and gloomy-looking mazoku that he recognized as Gwendal from earlier that day.

The same Gwendal that he had attacked.

Twice.

Yuuri could have sunk into the floor at that moment.

Gwendal's steely blue eyes rose to meet Conrad's and then fell almost immediately to Yuuri. The dark-haired mazoku appraised the double-black for a moment, then set his quill down and leaned back in his chair, suddenly pensive.

"Gwendal…"Conrad began, after a few seconds of tense silence had passed, "Where are the keys to Yuuri's cuffs?"

Gwendal raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed.

"Why would I give them to  _you_?" Gwendal replied flatly, not taking his eyes off of Yuuri as he said it.

Yuuri felt Conrad stiffen at his side.

"Have a care,  _Lord von Voltaire_." Conrad growled, "He is not our prisoner."

"No, he  _wasn't_." Gwendal ground out in response, dragging his striking gaze back up to Conrad, "Then he set fire to  _an entire wing of the castle_. Then, yes, he very much became our prisoner."

Conrad looked as if he wanted to argue, but Gwendal held up a hand and silenced the man.

"I and the Council will speak with him. We will discern his purpose for hiding in the Drache Forest, we will determine his role in the recent conflicts with Big Cimarron, and we will ask him just what exactly he did to the castle grounds during his rampage."

Gwendal looked at Yuuri, his stormy eyes drilling into Yuuri's black as he allowed a pregnant pause before his next statement.

"We will  _assess_  the  _risk_  that he poses to the people of this kingdom and residents of these grounds, and then,  _maybe_ , I will allow you to remove his shackles."

Conrad looked positively indignant, but he seemed to think better of questioning this man in his own territory. Instead the ex-soldier frowned disapprovingly and helped Yuuri into a chair in the center of the room. Yuuri was thankful for the distraction. Gwendal, momentarily appeased with Conrad's cooperation, returned to his paperwork until there was a rap on the door several minutes later.

Two very familiar blondes stepped into the rom. The first was the older woman who had used fire against him – she looked decidedly prettier now that he wasn't facing the brunt of her attacks. The other was, well, the one he had bitten. Wolfram looked just as angry as the last time Yuuri had seen him.

"Good evening, Mother." Conrad and Gwendal greeted at the same time, causing Yuuri to start.

_Brothers?!_

Yuuri barely had time to absorb this piece of information before he found himself the focus of Wolfram's positively scorching glare.

"Not acting like a beast anymore, I see." Wolfram hissed. Yuuri could see bandages underneath the blonde's blue over-shirt. He lowered his gaze guiltily back to the floor.

"Wolfram." Conrad warned, moving to stand between Yuuri and Wolfram.

"Boys,  _boys_ , do calm down." Celi scolded, placing a firm hand on each mazoku's shoulder. "No harm, no foul. The wing can be rebuilt."

"No  _harm_?!" Wolfram snapped, pure venom in his voice.

Gwendal sighed wearily from somewhere on Yuuri's other side.

"I hope that  _thing_  doesn't have rabies!" the blonde spat, throwing an accusatory finger in Yuuri's direction, making the double-black flinch. "What kind of person bites someone else?! We should throw  _Conrad's pet_  into the kennels with the other dogs until he can learn to behave himself in  _civilized society_!"

Celi seemed startled into silence, and Conrad's mouth was hanging open in shock. Yuuri covered his face with his hands, wishing he could cease to understand the Mazoku language that very second.

"Yikes! This is awkward." Yozak said as he and Von Christ meandered into the room.

The stunned silence stretched onwards, unbroken by the new arrivals.

"…Gurrier." Gwendal rumbled in acknowledgment, seemingly not sure how to further address the situation in the room.

Yuuri heard some shuffling, a light smack, then the distraught voice of Gunter von Christ.

"Wolfram, restrain yourself! You debase yourself throwing around nasty insults like that. Not to mention that they are wholly undeserved!"

"You may want to rethink your stance, von Christ." Wolfram glowered, "Considering this  _thing's_  animalistic tendencies."

"…n'an'mal" Yuuri murmured, words muffled by his hands.

The entire room stilled, caught off-guard by the double-black's sudden input. Yuuri shrank down into his chair, able to feel the collection of all the room's occupant's eyes on himself.

"What was that?!" Wolfram snapped, when it became apparent Yuuri wasn't going to repeat himself without prompting.

"…'m sorry, I really am." Yuuri repeated sullenly, "…but I'm not an animal."

Where before the silence of the room was grating, it was now thoughtful and confused. No one seemed to know what to do with Yuuri's statement, leaving the double black to watch his own toes with a sudden and intense interest.

"…Jus', ever since I got here, people have been saying I'm like a' animal." Yuuri mumbled, choking on his own shyness. "Like a  _beast_. But I'm not one. I'm a person. I'm just different 's all…"

Gwendal sat back in his chair, adopting a pensive look once again. Gunter looked like he was about to cry.

"Well, he's not wrong!" Yozak agreed in a chipper voice, smacking a stunned Conrad on the back and taking a seat in an empty chair.

Tension seemingly diffused by Yozak, everyone who was still standing quickly took a seat at a long table to one side of Gwendal's office. Conrad looked furious with Wolfram, but they both seemed to have silently agreed that this was neither the time nor place to get into it with one another. Celi shot Yuuri a forlorn glance that he chose to translate as ' _I am so sorry for my callous and rude offspring'_.

There was a brief shuffling as Gwendal straightened the papers on his desk, then the dark-haired mazoku was leaning forward, scrutinizing Yuuri with a piercing gaze as if daring him to lie.

"To begin," Gwendal said heavily in his too-deep voice, "Just who  _are_  you?"

* * *

 

Conrart felt torn, he thought, as he watched the brother he grew up with began to distrustfully interrogate the young man he had come to know and grow close to in a way that only Julia had before. Though he truly knew beyond a doubt that Yuuri was no threat to the kingdom, he could sense himself already distancing himself from his family – if they tried to do anything to Yuuri , he knew he would forget his loyalty to his countrymen in a moment and jump to the double-black's defense.

' _But why_?' He wondered as he moved his gaze from Yuuri to his family, seated on his other side, as if he himself were a wall resting between the two sides of the room.

_Because you love him_ , a tiny voice answered.

The thought scared him.

Yuuri sat in the chair in the center of Gwendal's office like a bird might sit on a perch – fleetingly, looking tense and ready to fly at the slightest sense of danger. And Yuuri  _could_  fly; everyone seated in the room had seen it. Gwendal seemed to remember this as soon as the gruff words had left him, and his mouth twisted in displeasure.  _He would have to be careful with this one_ , his brother must be thinking. As if on cue, the dark-haired mazoku left out the tiniest frustrated sigh.

Conrart probably would have found it funny if he himself was not also ready to bolt. He shifted the tiniest bit in the wooden chair.

Surprisingly, perhaps daringly, Yuuri did not answer Gwendal immediately. His black eyes were trained on Gwendal's desk, full of nervousness but also ringed with curiosity as they took in the piles of parchment precariously balanced atop it. Conrart had seen that look on his face before, when the double-black would gaze at the Drache Valley from the safety of the Dragon Wood - the look of a wolf staring across the border of his territory into another's, and at the same time wondering how to make it his.

Mistaking Yuuri's reluctance for fear, Gwendal's eyes narrowed and he spoke again.

"…Lord Weller—Conrad to you—has insisted repeatedly that you are no threat to us or our people. So long as you remain cooperative, no harm will come to you. So, please—" Gwendal waved his hand in an agitated manner, in such a way that commanded Yuuri to speak.

Yuuri gave a tiny bow of his head in acknowledgement, and with noticeable effort dragged his eyes up to meet Gwendal's.

"My name is Yuuri," Yuuri replied in a quiet voice. "Yuuri Shibuya."

When it appeared Yuuri would add nothing more, Gwendal sighed. "And?"

"And?" Yuuri parroted, "I don't know what else to say…"

Wolfram huffed noisily from behind Conrad.

"Where are you from, then, Yuuri?"

"The forest…?" Yuuri offered, blinking owlishly.

"The Dragon Wood?"

"Is that what it's called? I mean, technically, the dragons live in the valley, not the forest…"

"Irrelevant." Gwendal frustratedly tapped a finger on his desk, eyebrow twitching wildly. "For how long were you there?"

"My whole life." Yuuri replied, nodding once to demonstrate his confidence in his answer.

"And you are how old?"

Confidence vanishing, Yuuri suddenly frowned. His forehead creased in concentration.

"Um."

Across the table from Conrart, Yozak sounded like he was desperately trying not to laugh and as a result was making quiet choking noises. The sound of heavy breathing came from Wolfram's direction, though Conrart honestly couldn't tell if it was his younger brother or Gunter who was making the noises. Glimpsing his mother from the corner of his eye, Conrart could see that Celi possessed the toothiest smile she had worn in years. Conrart felt perturbed by the fondness he saw in her eyes.

Gwendal folded his hands in front of his mouth and closed his eyes, making visible efforts to collect his composure before it could slip away.

"Conrad."

Conrart stiffened to attention at the sound of Gwendal using his nickname.

"Lord von Voltaire?"

"Please give your account of the events that took place between the last day you reported in to the outpost for supplies, and the day of your rescue from the Drache Valley."

Frowning, Conrart stood and began his tale. A numb feeling began to overcome him as he detailed the attack of the Cimarron soldiers on the immense red dragon, the death of his squad, and the injuries he sustained in the line of duty. As he spoke of Yuuri chasing off the dragon and healing his wounds, the various sounds coming from his family's table ceased entirely. He did not delve too deeply into detail describing the weeks following that he had spent in Yuuri's company, referring simply to that period as time he spent recovering under Yuuri's care. He doubted his countrymen wanted to hear how he had neglected reporting in in favor of fishing and napping in the sun with the double-black.

It was about this time that a runner had knocked on the door to Gwendal's office and pulled Yozak away from the meeting. Conrart was barely fazed, knowing that Yozak controlled countless information networks that could not be neglected, especially at a time of war. Before leaving, Yozak had thrown Gwendal a silent look containing a question, to which Gwendal shook his head and waved his hand marginally. Accepting this as an answer, Yozak had departed.

Watching this exchange, Conrart's chest clenched. When had Gwendal and Yozak gotten so close?

"The day I was recovered by Spymaster Gurrier and Lord von Christ, Yuuri led me to the nest of a dragon he claimed had protected him since childhood—"

Yuuri turned his head sharply at the mention of the copper dragon, taking a wavering breath as his eyes grew wide.

"—It was shortly after our arrival at this nest that we heard the conflict between Lord von Christ and the Big Cimarron soldiers begin. At Yuuri's prompting, we…we climbed on the dragon's back and flew to the scene of the battle, where we had somewhat of a crash-landing. When I recovered, I immediately recognized the Spymaster and Lord von Christ, and assessed the situation with the Cimarron soldiers and the attacking dragon. The rest was probably detailed in Spymaster Gurrier's debriefing."

Gwendal's eyes, which had remained downcast throughout Conrad's report, lifted and immediately sought out the ex-soldier, pinning him to the spot.

"That's quite the extraordinary account, Lord Weller."

Conrart winced inwardly, able to hear the incredulity in his brother's voice. Defensively, he replied, "It's the truth, Lord von Voltaire."

Gwendal watched him for a moment longer, the silence that permeated the room pregnant with thoughtfulness, before his gaze shifted back over to Yuuri – who looked like he was having a moment of panic. Before Gwendal could resume asking him questions, foreign words began to tumble from the double-black's mouth.

" _Conrad! The copper dragon!_ " Yuuri's black eyes were impossibly wide. " _I totally forgot about her! Do you think she's okay? Did she look alright when she was chasing you? Oh, why did I have to go and get myself knocked out at that time…! That was so irresponsible of me…_ "

Conrart's gut twisted when he felt the collection of the room's eyes suddenly fall to him.

"Yuuri, I'm sure she's fine." Conrart replied, unwilling to use Japanese and exclude his family from the conversation.

Yuuri seemed unruffled by Conrart's non-Japanese reply however, instead seeming to dwell on the well-being of his caretaker. Gwendal, likewise, seemed to surmise the gist of what Yuuri had said, and returned his attention to the double-black.

"So," Gwendal began heavily, "Yuuri, would you say that Conrad has given an accurate account of what transpired?"

The young maryoku-user nodded slightly, his eyes distant.

"So then, if you would," Gwendal's voice contained an edge that made Yuuri wince and look at the dark-haired mazoku once more, "fill us in on how you arrived in the Dragon Wood, and tell us what you were doing there for…however long you were there."

Yuuri's mouth opened to speak, but before he could utter a sound, there was another knock at Gwendal's office door.

"Yes?" Gwendal called, chilly tone betraying his irritation.

Yozak entered the room, looking altogether confused and spooked – a look that immediately put Conrart and Gwendal on edge. The red-head's mouth opened, but no sound came out. His hands gestured wildly; seemingly trying to grasp what he wanted to say, before he ultimately gave up and opened the door once more –

Revealing a second double-black standing just in the hallway.

The mysterious stranger, a wiry young man with short cropped hair, wearing a loose blue shirt with hide pants, dark boots, and round glasses (altogether he looked wholly more well-groomed than Yuuri), stepped into the room with the sureness that a Maoh might have walking into his throne room.

"Greetings." The young man said in a voice that might once have been nasally, but with the passing of time had matured into something unsettling and abstruse, "My name is Ken Murata, once upon a time Great Sage to His Majesty Shinou."

Murata flashed a smile without looking at anyone in particular, then reached behind him and firmly closed the door, dousing the small sounds of commotion that seemed to be coming from further down the hallway and filling the room with a stunned silence once again.

"Me being here means that all of you are in  _big_  trouble."

There were two complete seconds of shocked stillness among the room's occupants, before everything exploded into chaos.

" _Another_  one?!" Wolfram hissed, jumping to his feet and baring his teeth at Murata.

"More trouble? Oh dear…" Celi murmured and frowned, carding fingers through her carefully styled ringlets and ruining them.

"The Great Sage!" Gunter cried, lurching upwards as his chair clattered backwards.

Yozak stared at the floor, looking as if he wished he could sink right through it. Yuuri was throwing a similar look at Gwendal's window.

Gwendal, meanwhile, was pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, his face quickly devolving from one of someone overwhelmed to a look bordering on outright fury.

" _Enough!_ " Gwendal cried and pounded a fist on his desk, freezing all in place. "Compose yourselves! We will not all fall apart at the seams from the unconfirmed utterings of a  _stranger_. Take your seats!"

Gwendal was positively glaring daggers at Murata, a withering look Conrart knew all too well; however, the supposed Great Sage merely met his fury with a lop-sided smile as the frazzled Council reluctantly sank back into their chairs.

"You-," Gwendal jabbed a finger at the spectacled man, "First of all, how do we know you are who you say you are?"

Murata grinned, then reached into his shirt pocket and procured a folded piece of parchment sealed with wax.

"I thought you might say something like that, Your Highness." Murata handed the piece of parchment to Yozak, who dutifully took it in hand and delivered it to Gwendal. Conrart's brother glanced at the wax seal, then broke it and unfurled the paper. "I have spoken with the priestess, Lady Ulrike, and she confirmed my identity – as you will read in that document there."

Gwendal was quiet as his eyes scanned the paper, brows furrowed in displeasure. After several moments he seemed to stiffen, his eyes going back to reread a line, before returning his piercing eyes back to Murata.

"You arrived via watery portal?" Gwendal growled with mounting vexation.

"Indeed." Murata confirmed, followed by several hushed exclamations from Conrart, Yozak, and Gunter. Murata's eyes glinted knowingly in the firelight. "I was told some of your group travelled to the capitol in a similar fashion, earlier this same day in fact. Which leads me to my next point…"

Murata took several deliberate steps forward, until he stood side-by-side with Yuuri, who was still seated. A sudden vision ripped through Conrart at the sight of the double-blacks together, not of what was, but what could be-

_Yuuri, the Maoh, seated upon the Shin Makoku throne, donned in regalia and wearing the intricate Royal Crown. Ken at his side, dressed in the long robes of the Great Sage, mysterious eyes hidden behind the glinting lenses of his glasses as he sized up any and all who stepped forward to speak with the mighty King—_

Conrart's hands were both white-knuckled fists under the table when Murata looked to his fellow double-black spoke his next words.

"You must be Yuuri Shibuya."

Both of Gwendal's eyebrows rose – it had been a statement, not a question. Conrart felt his heart leap into his throat as dread took its place in his chest.

"You know each other?" Gwendal rumbled and placed Ulrike's parchment upon the desk, atop the piles of documents that already lay there.

"No!" Yuuri blurted out as his eyes fixed on Ken, and he began to look very frightened.

Murata did not answer, instead taking in all of Yuuri's appearance with his too-knowing eyes: the shackles on his wrists, the scars and bruises that decorated the youth's skin, and wildness about him. Murata frowned, and fixed Gwendal with a stare that would have sent chills down Conrart's spine had he been on the receiving end of it.

"Why have you put Shibuya in chains?"

Gwendal narrowed his eyes, leaning forward against his desk as he once again folded his hands together in front of himself; something Conrart knew he did when he was being defensive.

"You both have just arrived at this castle today, Your Eminence." Yozak spoke for Gwendal, adopting a respectful tone in his voice ( _Diplomatic as always, Yozak_ , Conrart thought), "Earlier today, this young man awoke and…was confused by his surroundings. In his shock, he damaged the medical wing of the palace. We were forced to restrain him."

"Why would he be confused by his surroundings?" The coolness had not left Murata's voice. "Is he not the Maoh?"

Yozak, looking surprised, deferred to Gwendal – the calculating look had returned to the prince regent's face.

"You are not the first to call him that, Your Eminence." Gwendal stood, placing his palms flat upon the desk as he watched Murata's face carefully. "Tell me, why  _would_  he be Maoh?"

Murata paused, glancing down at Yuuri. Absentmindedly, the sage rested an elbow on top of the chair backing – his palm left hovering next to Yuuri's head, but not quite touching. Next Murata looked to Conrart, eyebrow quirking upwards in silent regards.

"You went to Earth several years ago, did you not?"

Conrart was surprised, to say the least, when the Great Sage's first question was directed at him.

"That is correct, Your Eminence." Conrart answered stiffly.

"And what was your mission?"

"To…" Conrart hesitated, glancing at his brothers, mother, and friend, who were now watching him with intrigue. All he had ever told them, save Gunter, was his destination. Had the rest been told his mission, or would this be news to them as well?

"Lord Weller?" Gwendal prompted.

"To deliver the soul of the next Maoh to Earth, Your Eminence."

Celi looked shocked, a hand rising to cover her mouth. Wolfram's expression was thunderous.

' _Have I betrayed you again, then, Wolfram?_ ' Conrart thought sadly.

Even worse, Gwendal looked unaffected. Did he already know, Conrart wondered? Or had he perfected the mask of indifference? It was a face Gwendal had often used in the past, when dealing with matters related to Conrart. To see it again now was affecting.

"The soul of the next Maoh," Murata echoed, and gestured to Yuuri, "Yuuri's soul."

Conrart frowned as he felt memories rattle in the back of his mind, as if trying to escape a cage. All that came to him were glimpses – an infant in his arms, a dessert, black eyes, the whisper of a soul inside of a glass vial. It was the same feeling that he had had when watching Yuuri with the copper dragon – the feeling that something had been erased.  _Or to be more precise_ , he thought,  _locked away_.

"I did not recognize him, Your Grace."

An incredulous look passed fleetingly across Murata's face, before he once again turned to face Gwendal.

"Even so, Lord von Voltaire, the fact remains true. Yuuri carries the soul intended by Shinou to be the next Maoh."

Gwendal's face was blank, as if he was attempting to process the information. It all sounded so ludicrous, Conrart thought, that Shinou would sanction such a thing to happen. The existence of Earth was not common knowledge – it was a guarded secret among the ruling family, the leaders of the aristocratic houses, and the Priestess. An even smaller group of people - one person, really - had actually ever  _seen_  it. Even to Conrart, however, much of the other world remained a mystery.

"Roughly twelve years ago, a watery vortex opened within the Shibuya household, and my young friend Yuuri here was caught within it." Murata smiled gently down at Yuuri, who returned the double-black's attention with a deep frown. "He was six.

"Understandably, Shibuya's family was beside themselves. Yuuri's ascension to the throne had not been anticipated until much later in his life. But the Maoh of Earth  _reassured_ ," Murata looked sharply at Conrart, "that he was in good hands, and that he would be raised in the Court of Shin Makoku, groomed for his future role.

"So, respectfully, for y'all to be telling me that today is the very first day that you've laid eyes upon him…"

Murata's face drooped, an unreadable emotion in his dark eyes.

"It means something is  _very_  wrong here."

The silence that followed was so thick, Conrart was sure he could have sliced it with his sword if he had a mind to. Instead, he was a seated statue, battling a sudden sick feeling rising up his throat.  _Yuuri had been_ six. What had taken him so early?  _Who_  had taken him?  _Why hadn't he remembered?_

Celi's eyes brimmed with tears, while wet trails already traced down Gunter's cheeks. Most surprisingly of all, perhaps, was Wolfram – Conrart's younger brother looked  _ashamed_.

Gwendal and Yozak glanced at each other, seemingly troubled.

"I know," Yuuri whispered, appearing positively green, "I knew something was wrong. I sensed it when I first got here. The air was sick. It was evil."

Yuuri shuddered, but then met Murata's gaze with earnest eyes.

"But I  _fixed_  it, I did!" Yuuri insisted. "I burned it out – it was everywhere. I passed out afterwards, I think. And when I woke up, I…" Yuuri lifted his shackled wrists towards Murata by way of explanation.

"But when I was asleep, I dreamed…I don't know. There was a woman…" Yuuri's face scrunched up in concentration. "And then after, I saw something. Blue eyes. There was yelling, and I woke up. The first thing I saw was him—"

Yuuri pointed to Wolfram, who started. Yuuri looked morose and very apologetic.

"—That's why I attacked you. I was scared, and didn't know what was happening. I'm really sorry."

"There, there, Shibuya." Murata placed a reassuring hand on Yuuri's shoulder. "I can hardly blame you for acting in such a way while under an external influence. And it seems you were not the only one affected by this evil, as well."

Gwendal, seemingly having reached his limit, had nothing to say in response to Murata's insinuation.

No one, in fact, had completely processed what Murata and Yuuri had told them all. Conrart was honestly surprised, however, when it was Celi who stepped forward to continue probing the Great Sage.

"Influence?" Celi's tired voice was barely above a whisper. "Evil? What has befallen our kingdom, Your Eminence? It is clear all of our minds were poisoned to an extent, and that this boy's presence here grants a purifying effect."

Murata smiled at the former Queen, the faintest look of pride on his face. Conrart could not understand it. The Sage stepped away from Yuuri and towards the table of nobles, arms spread in a placating gesture.

"While your kingdom is in great danger, Your Majesty, it is nothing that cannot be fixed." Murata bowed ever so slightly to Celi. "It is merely that the Forbidden Boxes are leaking."

Celi's large green eyes widened impossibly, a frown tugging at her lips.

"The boxes?" Gunter interjected. "Did you not yourself take two of them to Earth four thousand years ago, and entrust the other two to allies of Shinou?"

A sad smile tugged at Murata's lips.

"I am only the reincarnation of the Great Sage, my Lord." Murata's eyes were distant, "My memories have been handed down to me over hundreds of lifetimes, and are fuzzy on some accounts."

Gunter was clearly in awe, Conrart could see. The reverence on his face for this Ken Murata rivalled that of the looks of adoration he reserved for Yuuri.

"What I do know, however, is that the Great Sage lied. Shinou's kingdom was in turmoil, and he had enemies who would harness the power of the boxes to throw the world into chaos once again. Less was known of Earth then than we do today – it was easier to make his enemies believe that the Boxes had been taken out of their reach."

"So what you're saying," Gwendal sighed, "Is that you have no idea where two of the Boxes are now, only that they're  _leaking_  somewhere within the borders of our kingdom?"

Murata's glasses glinted, and a sly smile played at the young double-black's lips.

"I never said that, Lord von Voltaire."

"So then—"

"Yes, I know where they are." Murata nodded assuredly. "And I will tell you where they can be found. But…"

" _But?_ " Gwendal growled darkly, clearly tired of the games the Great Sage was playing.

Murata gave an equally unyielding look, his an unshakable expression of calculation, coldness, and perhaps just a touch of smugness.

"Before I tell you anything," Murata said cheerily, " _you will give me the keys to Shibuya's handcuffs._ "

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original ffnet Note:
> 
> "Murata 'get-these-terrible-horrible-handcuffs-off-my-precious-cinnamon-roll' Ken. Love the guy, I really do. Also, I like to think his voice got less nasally when he got a bit older. His voice in the anime hurts me."


	9. Rain for a Desert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murata: "Yer a wizard, Yuuri."
> 
> Yuuri, shoving breadsticks into his purse: "I'm sorry I have to go home   
>  right now immediatley."

**Blood Pledge Castle, Shin Makoku**

To say that Yuuri didn't understand the Great Sage would be an understatement. The bespectacled young man was too care-free, and seemed to revel in the fact that he held more knowledge on recent events than the nobility in the room. Gwendal obviously did not like Murata, while everyone else within the room simply didn't seem to know what to  _do_ with him.

But Yuuri could not deny that his fellow double-black held a certain fondness for him – the Great Sage's fingers were incredibly gentle as he unlocked the shackles from Yuuri's wrists, then patted him reassuringly on the shoulder with a benevolent, warm smile.

Yuuri knew right away that he liked this Ken Murata.

"Now that that's over and done with," Murata said chipperly with a grin as he turned from Yuuri and threw the key onto Gwendal's desk (it was instantly lost among the papers there), "We can discuss the  _true_  threat to your kingdom, Lord von Voltaire."

Rubbing his wrists, Yuuri watched Gwendal warily. While he was glad the wrath of the coal-haired demon was no longer directed at him, he couldn't say that he enjoyed being in the company of such a grumpy man. Murata seemed immune to the prince regent's ire, however.

"Indeed." The man in question rumbled, sounding quite weary.

Murata paused, sweeping his calculating eyes over all in the room. Yuuri could feel what the Sage was seeing – the weary eyes of the Council, who were overwhelmed by all that they had been told and physically exhausted from the events of the day.

"…If I may, Lord von Voltaire." Murata began, his voice having changed from cocky to placating, "We've all been through a hell of a day. Perhaps now that the pertinent information has been brought to light, we should all catch some shut-eye and have some time to process?"

Yuuri felt the mood in the room slump as every occupant seemed to realize how tired they were.

Gwendal seemed reluctant to agree with this man he so detested, but in the end gave in to his exhaustion. A large hand rose to cradle Gwendal's forehead as the prince regent visibly deflated.

"You make a valid point, Your Eminence." Gwendal paused and blinked slowly, and with a heavy sigh said "We will meet again here after lunch tomorrow. When that time comes, please be prepared to tell us all you know about the Boxes."

"Of course," Murata inclined his head.

"Then I dismiss you all for the evening."

Gwendal stood first, followed by the other members of the Council. Wolfram stepped to his mother's side and placed a comforting arm over her shoulders. Celi smiled softly in thanks, but she did not seem to catch the venomous glare that Wolfram threw Conrad's way before he escorted her out of the office. Gunter scrubbed at his eyes, in weariness or to wipe away tears Yuuri did not know, but he cast Yuuri one last sad expression before he too departed. Conrad and Yozak had immediately joined each other to one side of the office, whispering heatedly about one thing or another.

Yuuri really couldn't be bothered to wonder what they were speaking about. There was already too much on his mind, the burden of his supposed role weighing heavily on his chest, slowly crushing him. Already Murata's words began to buzz throughout his mind, and he felt his heartbeat begin to race.

_The Maoh…? Impossible!_

"Lord von Voltaire, if I may…" Murata rested a hand firmly on Yuuri's shoulder, bringing him back to the room for a moment, "Am I right to assume that Yuuri has no permanent quarters within the castle at this time?"

Gwendal, who had been absentmindedly straightening the papers on his desk since the meeting had adjourned, straightened and narrowed his eyes at the double-black pair.

"Seeing as how he has only arrived today, and destroyed the temporary quarters we gave him initially – no, I daresay he will find himself in a cot far, far away from anyone else he could potentially hurt in one of his…episodes."

Murata frowned, though it hardly reached his eyes. No, his eyes were sparkling.

"That his hardly appropriate from him, Your Highness," Murata sniffed, "Yuuri obviously has injuries that must be seen to, not to mention that isolating him when tensions between him and the staff of your palace are so high…" he trailed off suggestively.

A singular eyebrow was raised on Gwendal's part.

"If you know of a better place for him—"

"I do, in fact." Murata grinned wolfishly, as if this had been the suggestion he was waiting for (which it probably was). "I can offer him a room at the Temple of Shinou, where he can personally be tended to by the priestess and sleep in the comfort of our dormitories."

Gwendal looked as if he didn't like the idea, but the hour was too late to brook any more arguments from him.

"Be it on your head if the boy destroys  _another_ building." Gwendal waved his hand dismissively, eyes returning to his desk. "I release him to your custody, Your Eminence. I will send Lord Weller for you two in the morning."

"My thanks, Your Highness."

A hand fell to Yuuri's elbow, and suddenly the wild teen found himself being guided out of the chair and towards the door of Gwendal's office. Yuuri cast a panicked glance in Conrad's direction, but the half-blood only watched him go forlornly. Again, Yuuri was struck by the fear that Conrad no longer trusted him – it stung.

Silently the two double blacks were escorted to a second meeting room, where a contingency of three armored guards were waiting. As Murata and Yuuri entered, the group stood and bowed. Yuuri noticed all of the guards were women – he glanced at Murata, who gave a lop-sided smile and winked.

"Your Eminence." One of the women spoke in greeting.

"Captain." Murata returned the greeting warmly. "Ser Yuuri will be returning with us. Would you have a messenger sent ahead to the Temple and have accommodations prepared for him?"

"Of course, my Lord." The Captain replied, and without instruction one of her soldiers departed from the room to carry out Murata's wishes.

"Shibuya," Murata nodded to his guard captain, who bowed once again, "this is Captain Sterling. She commands the all-female guard at the Temple of Shinou. You'll be staying there under my protection – if you need anything, just ask any of her subordinates."

Sterling removed her helmet, revealing the round face of a short but well-built woman underneath, her brown hair braided tightly against her head and brown eyes shining with intelligence.

"It is our honor to serve you, Ser Yuuri."

Yuuri once again found himself feeling self-conscious. What was he supposed to do with servants, fancy titles, and comfy beds? These people used his family name, a name he himself hadn't used in over ten years.

"Thanks." Yuuri replied dumbly.

"Sterling, if you would," Murata was once again smiling (something he did a lot, Yuuri was beginning to figure out), "Shibuya here seems to have been the victim of negligence of the brutes here at the castle. Would you ask a castle guard for some shoes—"

"No!" Yuuri cut him off, the word coming out a bit sharper than he intended.

Murata's eyebrows rose sharply in surprise.

"No, err, that is…" Yuuri's hands fidgeted wildly as he tried to think of an explanation, "If you don't mind, I'd rather not. I'm really not used to…" Yuuri waved his hand at the whole of the extravagantly decorated room, "This."

Murata blinked, but then seemed to understand. He shrugged, then turned back to Captain Sterling, who looked altogether confused at the exchange.

"Never mind then, Sterling. Please fetch the carriage - we'll be departing."

The soldier and Captain bowed, then Sterling's remaining subordinate ran ahead to call the carriage. Sterling remained by Murata's side, however, and escorted the two double-blacks towards the castle's front entrance.

It was very late at night at this point, and Yuuri was profoundly grateful that the majority of the soldiers and servants had retired for the evening. The attention he had gotten today was enough to last him a lifetime. Still, the trio would pass by a maid every now in then, who would in turn regard the dark-featured pair with eyes as round as dish plates before scurrying away.

The smallest irritated sigh escaped Murata.

"Cumbersome four thousand years ago, and cumbersome now." Murata whispered so lowly that Yuuri was sure he was the only one supposed to hear.

Yuuri didn't know what to make of the information that Murata was the reincarnation of a Sage who lived four millennia ago. He was inclined to disbelieve it.

Within a few minutes, the trio had arrived at the front doors of the palace. They were massive – two carved, wooden structures triple Yuuri's height. Yuuri was unimpressed, having seen larger trees. Two posted sentries parted the doors for the approaching company, revealing a horse-drawn carriage surrounded on either side by the two soldiers of Sterling's who had left ahead of their group. One of the soldiers held a horse for Sterling, but the Captain escorted her wards all the way to the steps of the carriage, where she held open the door for them.

Yuuri was reluctant to enter the carriage, to say the least. It looked like a death trap on wheels – but his friend wasn't having it. Murata pushed Yuuri in ahead of him, and Yuuri awkwardly stumbled in and sat on an overly-soft cushioned seat. Murata climbed in behind him, the door was shut after (making Yuuri feel  _quite_  claustrophobic), and a few moments later the carriage jerked forward and they were rolling away from the massive palace.

There were several minutes of awkward silence as Yuuri looked anywhere but at Murata, opting finally to glue his eyes to the smallish carriage window. It was another five minutes after they had left the palace gates and were rolling through the capitol that Murata deigned to speak.

" _So, Shibuya…"_

Yuuri's eyes shot to Murata at the sound of his native language.

" _That's right, you're not the only one from Japan anymore. Disappointed?_ "

Yuuri frowned, not sure why he would be disappointed. Largely he was unhappy that Murata knew so much about him and everything else, when Yuuri knew nothing. Not about himself, not about Earth, not about his past. His nose wrinkled in frustration. Murata chuckled.

"You're an open book, you know that?" Murata's eyes twinkled, "But it's not necessarily a bad thing to wear your heart on your sleeve."

"It's definitely a bad thing. I don't even _wear_ sleeves." Yuuri sneered.

Murata barked a laugh. "Then what  _are_  you used to, exactly?"

"More trees, for sure." Yuuri waved a hand at the multitude of buildings and cobblestones passing them by.

"Okay, trees. Sure. Anything else?"

"Dragons."

"Dragons?"

"Yeah, a  _lot_  more dragons."

"Wow." was Murata's only reply as he leaned back and suddenly looked thoughtful. He watched Yuuri silently, hands folded in his lap as his eyes picked apart and dissected everything Yuuri had to offer.

"Stop that." Yuuri snapped, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

Murata cocked an eyebrow. "Stop what?"

"If you really think I'm an open book, then stop  _reading_  me."

"But reading is so much fun!" Murata fake-whined with his best disarming smile.

But Yuuri knew better than that. If he had learned anything about Murata over the past couple of hours, it was that the man could manipulate people as easily as he could breathe or saunter. Yuuri continued to frown at the Sage, until the bespectacled man's winning smile slowly faded.

"My apologies, then, Yuuri," Murata sighed. "As I'm sure you're beginning to see, politics can be quite complicated. Though this is the first time I personally have stepped into a castle, my past lives have taught me how useful duplicity and manipulation can be."

"They will not be useful with me." Yuuri scolded.

The corner of Murata's mouth quirked upwards, a ghost of a smile.

"No, I suppose they won't be."

 

* * *

**Temple of Shinou, Shin Makoku**

The ride to Shinou's Temple was not a long one, but it was still midnight by the time Yuuri and company arrived at the significantly smaller temple gates. As the carriage rolled through the gates, Yuuri immediately spotted another pair of female guards, and another, and another… It was a little bit of a shock to see just how heavily guarded the temple was.

"The temple holds the body of Shinou," Murata explained, seeing Yuuri's surprise, "Where it has rested for almost four thousand years – preserved by some form of magic or another. The maryoku it contains is substantial, and the priestess uses it for various spells and what-not."

Yuuri, looking a little grossed out, cast a disbelieving look at Murata over his shoulder.

"There's some  _dead guy_  in there?"

Huffing softly in laughter, Murata shrugged lightly.

"Deep,  _deep_  underground. Only the Priestess and the Great Sage really have access to the body – and I've been on Earth for my last several reincarnations. I'm sure Ulrike tends to it every hundred years or so—"

"Stooooop." Yuuri groaned, reaching to cover his ears tightly. "This is all so unnatural."

"Shinou was the first Maoh," Murata retorted with a teasing smile, "Aren't you interested in him at all, as the future inheritor of his title?"

Yuuri once again felt panic rise in his chest, as he remembered everything that Murata had told him earlier. A small quake began in his hands as he tried to envision his life as a Maoh, but couldn't. He got as far as an image of himself dressed in finery, draped in silks and jewels and wearing tailored leather boots. His face fell as he thought,  _that isn't me. I wasn't raised into this, like Conrad was. I don't belong here._

"No, I'm not interested."  _In the title._  Yuuri added silently, returning his gaze back to the window.

The carriage was brought around to the front doors of the temple, where it gave a final, jerky stop. Murata was first on his feet, jumping lightly out of the carriage when its door opened a second later. Yuuri happily followed, ready to be rid of his claustrophobia.

Before him stood a massive but wholly simple building, bearing signs of age. A short staircase led up to the solid stone archway, netted with vines, that served as the entrance to the temple – it was perhaps the most decorated thing about the structure, the rest of which looking stony and plain. Behind him, around the gates, stood taller, more intricately designed dormitories – from outside the temple they looked like tall, impenetrable walls, but facing the courtyard, they were lined with hundreds of windows, vines, and flowers. Between these two structures was an octagonal fountain – the same one Yuuri and Murata had supposedly appeared from that day – surrounded by a beautiful moonlight lawn. All of this was connected by a dirt path that circled around and through the lawn in the shape of a figure 8; it was along this path that Sterling's warriors stood guard.

Yuuri, with a jolt, realized that he recognized this place. Not from that morning, no…he had been here much longer ago.

Atop the short staircase stood a small girl dressed in white robes paired with a red skirt and sash. Her silvery hair cascaded to the ground, and her equally silver eyes were aglow with warmth and welcome.

"Your Eminence!" The girl greeted happily as soon as Murata had exited the carriage, giving a respectful bow that was mirrored by the guards around the courtyard.

"Lady Ulrike." Murata replied politely, nodding his head while reaching back to grasp Yuuri around the elbow and hauling him front and center to face the Priestess Ulrike, "May I introduce Ser Yuuri Shibuya, who will be undertaking training at Court until he is ready to become the next Maoh."

Uncomfortable, Yuuri merely croaked, "Uh, hi."

"Oh my." Ulrike's eyes were wide with awe, an excited blush dusting her cheeks. "It is an honor to finally meet you, Ser Yuuri. It is a shame that we could not formally become acquainted this morning, since I was within the Temple performing my duties when you first graced us with your presence."

"That's really okay." Yuuri laughed nervously. "I don't think any of us were in any shape to be greeting someone as important as you…"

Blushing harder, Ulrike gave a small, undignified squeak. "You flatter me, Ser Yuuri! I am not so special as that – I merely am entrusted with purifying the grounds and tending to His Majesty Shinou when required." Eyes drifting to Murata, she added, "It is the Great Sage who communicates with the spirit of Shinou and delivers his words of guidance to the castle. I have done my best to act as a channel between Shinou and Shin Makoku in the Sage's absence, but it is a relief to finally have His Eminence returned to us."

Murata smiled sheepishly at the praise, and waved a hand in dismissal.

"The day has been quite long, Lady Ulrike." Murata interjected kindly, "I am sure all of us are ready to retire for the night."

"Yes, yes, of course!" The Preistess' eyes widened in realization and she hurriedly flapped at a guard standing to her left. "I received your message, Your Eminence. I have had chambers prepared for you and Ser Yuuri at your request. My ladies will escort you to them presently."

Hearing the command, Ulrike's guardswoman bowed. "This way, my Lord, Your Eminence."

Murata gave a final wave of farewell to Ulrike, and then once again Yuuri's elbow was grabbed and he was dragged gently behind the fellow Great Sage.

It was small blessing that the guardswomen of the shrine seemed accustomed to Murata's presence already, as only a small number of curious glances followed the double-black pair as they traced the path away from the Temple and towards the dormitories, which circled the courtyard almost completely.

They entered the dormitories through a side door (the Temple had no guest entrance since only the guardswomen and now Murata lived there), and continued down a quiet, dimly lit corridor. Within minutes they reached a staircase, and climbed upwards. On the third floor they branched off down another hallway, and did not stop until they had reached a dead end.

"These will be your quarter for the night, Ser Yuuri." The guardswoman said respectfully, handing Yuuri a heavy brass key.

"Thank you." Yuuri replied sincerely, ready to scurry into his room and hide away from the world of trouble that seemed to be upon him now. He clutched the brass key in his hand like something precious.

How he had missed privacy.

"Sweet dreams, Shibuya. We'll get your head looked at in the morning." Murata waved before he and his escort had left him standing in front of his bedroom door.

Yuuri's hands shook badly as he pressed the key into the lock and opened the door, his composure finally falling apart now that he had been left all alone. In the time it took him to take two steps into the bedroom, he was hyperventilating.

The bedroom was modest, containing a bed, dresser, mirror, chamber pot, and wash pan. Curtains were drawn over what Yuuri assumed was a window, leaving the room dark and quiet.

It was far too small.

He closed the door behind him, before sliding to the floor and curling into a ball. Small hiccups escaped him as tears began to fall from his eyes, splattering noisily against the wooden floor.

He felt like a child again - the child he had been years ago, lost and alone in a new world surrounded by enemies. Nothing felt like home, nothing felt safe. And they would come to take him away in the morning, to become something he was not. He would never see the copper dragon again, nor would he hunt or explore or seek out new dangers to conquer. A part of himself deep inside longed for Conrad, and ached dearly for those days they had shared together in the forest. But it was so painfully clear to Yuuri now that a life at Conrad's side and a life in the woods could never happen at the same time.

His breaths grew shorter every second. Just as Yuuri remembered that rabbits could die of panic and wondered if the same would happen to him, he felt something in his chest give out, and abruptly he passed out on the floor.

 

* * *

**Merchant Road, Shin Makoku**

Yuuri hadn't realized how much he missed flying with the copper dragon until the wind was whipping his face once again. The hooves of the horse under him rumbled thunderously as he galloped down the dark road, his eyes tearing from the delightful sting of the wind.

Slipping out of the temple unnoticed had been a simple thing.

He had been slim enough to shimmy out of the small window looking over the courtyard, and then it was only a matter of scaling the vines along the dormitories silently and padding across the roof until he had reached the stables.

The horse he had picked was a sturdy thing, full of youthfulness and energy – he would need it to last him for however long it took to return to the Dragon Woods. The grey stallion had been stubborn and hard to handle as Yuuri forced a bridle onto its long face (forgoing a saddle entirely). That, and the fact that Yuuri had never ridden a horse before, made escaping on horseback seem quite the daunting task. But Yuuri was no stranger to establishing dominance to wild animals – the horse fell in line soon enough.

And Yuuri could ride dragons.

He desperately hoped Conrad would forgive him as the Capitol disappeared over the horizon. He watched the light of the moon and stars illuminate the sky, and wondered how easily he would be replaced.

For hours he rode, following the road and passing no one. He had no idea how to return to the Dragon Wood, but he was confident that soon he would reach a town where no one would recognize him, and he could ask directions.

A few hours after dawn had broken, he did just that.

It was a small village, only a few houses huddled together in defense against the wilderness, but it was all Yuuri needed. He dismounted, sending a silent command to the stallion via magic that it was to stay put, before drawing the cloak he had stolen from the dormitory up and over his head so that his hair and eyes were not immediately visible.

There was no one there to greet him, however – all of the houses were completely empty. Frowning, Yuuri circled the houses, glancing into the openings where wealthier people might have put windows. There were signs of life in them, such as a fire burning in a hearth, or a pot of stew bubbling over a stove. Oddly, tables and chairs were tipped, along with other small signs of chaos amongst the sparse abodes. There were signs that livestock had once been there too, but their trails led off into the distance, seemingly having fled. The trails of people, he noticed, were everywhere. Tens of people, more than could have fit into all the houses combined, had tramped through here recently, going every which way before concentrating at a point and heading towards a thicket of trees and bushes.

The acrid scent of blood, smoke, and burning wood reached Yuuri's nose suddenly, making him cough in disgust and swivel his head towards the source – the thicket. Frowning, Yuuri jogged back to his horse and climbed upon it once again – the stallion also seemed to sense that danger was nearby, its body rigid and ears piqued in interest.

Against all better judgment, he cautiously edged the horse forward, every fiber of him alert for enemies or predators nearby. As he drew closer to the source, he began to hear screams. The light of a mighty inferno painted the still-morning sky red with firelight, and within mere minutes Yuuri came upon the scene of a battle.

More accurately, it was bedlam.

Yuuri could not determine the sides, only that men and women alike fought each other ruthlessly with farming equipment and shabby weapons. Livestock lay slaughtered on the ground, fire erupting from more houses that had been hidden within the thicket. A few bodies lay scattered in the dirt already, but many were either struggling to put out the fires or fleeing injury. The shrill cry of a child pierced through the morning air.

Yuuri didn't know what drove him forward, only that one second he was watching the chaos, and the next he had spurred his stallion forward, flying headlong into it.

He blinked, and when he opened his eyes next he could see the threads of the elements that raged around him. The flickering strings of fire were overwhelming in their quantity, and Yuuri knew he would not be able to absorb them into himself without great injury to his body. He raised a hand and cast his magic out, seeking the familiar threads of the water element.

He could feel them high above him; the air around him was already too dried out by the fire. Quickly he began to pump his magic into whatever water threads he could reach. Within seconds, he could feel them swell. The sky grew cloudy.

"It's the Maoh!" A voice cried out near him, causing him to pause. He realized too late that his hood had fallen down to his shoulders.

There was a lull in the sound of battle around him as many eyes turned to him, taking in his hair and eyes. Rain began to pour from the sky. There were three very different reactions that followed.

One group of people screamed and dropped their weapons, fleeing into the bushes around them. The second group seemed relieved, and began to gather around him.

"Shin Makoku reinforcements are here!"

"Thank God!"

"Help us, please!"

The third group – containing the smallest number of people – seemed to grow furious and charge him with weapons raised.

" _Die_ , Demon scum!" one man bellowed as he leveled a pitchfork at Yuuri's face.

Yuuri could see very clearly that none of these people were magic-users, having no strings of elemental magic around them. If a pitchfork was the worst his attackers had to offer, he seriously doubted they could do him any real harm. That does not mean Yuuri was merciful in his deflections, however.

From a puddle beneath his attacker's feet burst a geyser of rainwater, blasting the man with such force that he flew several feet into the air before thudding harshly against the ground, the prongs of his pitchfork embedding into the Earth. He didn't move, apparently unconscious.

The other attackers were similarly disarmed as watery dragons rose from the wet ground, hissing angrily and sweeping away opponents from the field with brute force. Yuuri himself had not moved from horseback, but all of his attackers had been sent sprawling against the ground or fleeing in a quick minute. The humans who remained near were celebratory, suddenly circling closely around him to offer their thanks.

The feeling of claustrophobia returned to Yuuri as he was encircled by cheerful faces and grasping hands. Gasping, he kicked the stallion's flanks with his heels and sent himself barreling away from the crowd.

Cries of 'Thank you, Your Majesty!' followed him as he disappeared once again into the bushes.

What remained of the houses flew by him as he desperately sought out the road, but once again he found himself intercepted as a lone man on horseback suddenly galloped onto the dirt path before him, blocking his way.

The man was broad and muscular, defiant blue eyes sparkling and honey-gold hair glistening with rain. A cocky smile was plastered on the man's square face, a smile that made Yuuri's chest clench impossibly tight. He wore clothes resembling the humans', but Yuuri glimpsed the strings of magic reacting to his presence. This man was from Shin Makoku.

 _Adalbert von Grantz_.

Yuuri did not have time to wonder how he knew the man's name before Adalbert had drawn his sword and was advancing closer to Yuuri with a smug smile.

"I didn't expect them to send the new Maoh himself," Adalbert ribbed in a voice that rivalled Gwendal's in deepness, "Especially for a little border dispute like this. Honestly, these humans – always letting their hatred for the demon tribe get in the way of their rational thinking. All it takes is a little whisper in their ears that some of their own are receiving foreign aid from Shin Makoku, and out come the torches and pitchforks – quite literally in this case."

"Adalbert." Yuuri choked out, eyes glued on the demon and watering with the emotion that was swelling up inside of him.

Frowning, the point of Adalbert's sword lowered marginally. "I see they've already told you about me. Strange that they still care, since I haven't lived in Shin Makoku for decades."

Yuuri's eyes were as wide as dish plates, his fingers clenched around his horse's reins like iron.

"What…what have you done?" Yuuri whispered in a voice full of confusion and sorrow.

 _Why?_  A small voice cried out inside of him.  _WHY?!_

The arrogant smile on Adalbert's face disappeared entirely, and was quickly replaced with a look of long-weathered rage and malice.

"Nothing that hasn't been deserved a thousand times over!" Von Grantz snarled as he raised his sword against Yuuri. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, the flash of lightning glinting off the edge of his blade.

Yuuri felt something wither inside of him, a sensation that went soul-deep. He recognized the feeling that ripped through his chest now, though he did not know why he felt it for this man.

It was the feeling that he had been betrayed.

"You're a  _traitor_!" Yuuri wept accusingly at the demon, though his tears were hidden by rain.

"I am an  _AVENGER_!" Adalbert roared in response, swiftly kicking his horse into a gallop as he brandished his sword, "-something you will learn  _now_!"

Yuuri could not attack this man, he knew. It had nothing to do with physical strength or magical prowess. It was because deep, deep down - so deep that Yuuri was not even sure it was still himself – he loved him. Something within Yuuri truly, desperately loved Adalbert von Grantz.

Yuuri swiftly launched himself from the back of his horse as the demon's sword swung where his shoulder had been a moment before. It had been a feint however – as Yuuri fell ground-wards, Adalbert's hand shot out and released a monstrous ball of fire towards him. Yuuri reacted without thinking: he reached into the fire and pulled the magical strings within it into himself. The inferno singed his clothes but was absorbed harmlessly into his skin as he landed.

Adalbert's eyebrows shot up in shock, but didn't have time to react. Yuuri stomped  _into_  the ground, causing chunks of rubble to shoot up under his horse's hooves. The horse whinnied nervously as it became unbalanced, then screamed outright as Yuuri released the fire he held within him from his feet – causing him to shoot forward and tackle the horse with brute force.

Adalbert, Yuuri, and the horse all fell to the ground as one in a giant heap, but Yuuri was quick to recover. As he rolled away from the flailing hooves of Von Grantz's steed, he heard the muscular soldier curse and stumble to his feet.

Yuuri shot a glance at the Mazoku – his nose was bloodied, probably broken from the fall, but the rage burning in his eyes had only increased in intensity.

Von Grantz lunged forward and around his fallen horse with a mighty yell, already swinging his sword in a complex maneuver. Yuuri's eyes were stinging with tears, and he was barely able to dodge as the blade pierced the air next to his chest. He ducked to the side as the momentum of von Grantz's blow pulled the blonde mazoku forward, then rolled away again as the sword punched the air from behind him, Adalbert aiming a blow at his back.

"Is  _dodging_  all you can  _do_?" Adalbert snarled as Yuuri avoided an elbow aimed at his forehead, "Come on, show me some of those fancy magic tricks I saw back in the village!"

"I won't." Yuuri replied mournfully.

Suddenly there was the sound of thunder, but it came from the opposite direction of Yuuri's storm.

"YUURI!" Conrad's voice cried over the sound of fast approaching hooves, causing both battling men to twitch.

Knowing that between von Grantz and the new arrival, all chance of escape had disappeared, Yuuri's next course of action was to keep casualties down to a minimum. Somehow he sensed that there was friction between Conrad and Adalbert, and that a confrontation amongst the two would be disastrous. Indeed, Adalbert's face was thunderous as his eyes fell upon the half-blood advancing upon Yuuri from behind, but Yuuri determined that was as far as he would get.

Adalbert's eyes flickered to Yuuri in confusion as the double-black raised an arm, the earth trembling excitedly in response to what he planned next. Yuuri looked Adalbert in the eye, trying to fit as many emotions as he could into that brief moment, and then made a fist.

Like coils of pressure within the earth had been sprung, giant slabs of slate punched through the ground, surrounding Adalbert and his fallen horse on all sides. There was a startled yell of protest from the mazoku as the earthen cage rose around him, but then all sounds from him were silenced as he was encased completely. Yuuri knew he would be able to escape from the prison, but it would take him a long time, and he would be very pissed off.

Several long seconds later, Conrad reached him.

"Yuuri!" The ex-soldier panted heavily, sounding both confused and relieved. His chocolate brown eyes flicked to the slate prison. "Who was-?"

"No one you need concern yourself with." Yuuri cut him off flatly, turning to meet the party that had ridden to his aide.

Surprisingly, only three mazoku sat mounted before him: Conrad, Gwendal, and Wolfram. The three brothers observed Yuuri with varying looks, most worrying of all being Gwendal's face, scrunched up in irritation. A moment of silence passed between them, before the charcoal haired mazoku shifted on his steed.

"You were gone from the Temple this morning." Gwendal grumbled darkly, doing his best to keep suspicion out of his voice without much success.

Yuuri could tell the man was trying to give Yuuri the benefit of the doubt after the events of the previous day, even though Yuuri knew he didn't deserve it. Yuuri had gone AWOL, something the three men before him didn't yet know or weren't fully willing to believe. He was not in the mood to defend his actions, however, so he opted to change the subject.

"Those people needed… _need_  help." Yuuri responded, pointing down the path and averting his eyes away.

Gwendal looked at him curiously, before nudging his horse forward, followed by Wolfram. Yuuri climbed onto his mount effortlessly as Conrad waited for him, and then all four of them ventured to the heavily smoking village nearby.

The prince regent stopped at the head of the party as his eyes fell upon the scene: the human refugees picking up what remained of their homes, tending to the wounded, comforting weeping children as they were steered away from dead or unconscious bodies. Water and soot covered everything, combining into a thick black mud that sucked at the feet of anyone who plodded through it. The remnants of a thunderstorm were just disappearing, a cool breeze stirring the ash that floated drearily through the smoky air. His eyes immediately flew to Yuuri, face accusatory and full of fury - but he did not get the chance to vent his anger at Yuuri for crimes real and imagined.

"Your Majesty!" a woman covered in soot cried as she laid eyes upon Yuuri. She hurried forward, baby clutched to her chest and eyes full of tears. "We— _I_  cannot thank you enough!"

"The Maoh!"

"It's the Maoh!"

More and more villagers, though all were covered in wounds of some kind and wearing the signs of battle, clamored to be at Yuuri's side once again. Many held out flowers, pieces of cloth, and other menial objects to offer as tribute. Unable to refuse, Yuuri's arms were slowly piled high, the burden of the refugees' gratitude literally beginning to outweigh his guilt.

The three princes watched quietly in awe as they began to piece together what had happened. Conrad's eyes raked over Yuuri, but he would find no traces of wounds. He had not attacked, but defended his people.

Yuuri had, for the first time, acted like a Maoh.

 

* * *

After the villagers had finished relinquishing their gifts, Gwendal broke away from the group to seek out the authorities within the village to arrange rebuilding and defense efforts. Conrad helped tend to wounds, his excessive experience on the battlefield finally amounting to something useful-

But now was not the time for Wolfram's usual ire for his brother – there was work to be done.

Wolfram swallowed his distaste for the grime that seemed to cover everything. He was a man aware of his own pampered world views and upbringing, but not ignorant of the hardships that his people faced. His uncle, Waltorona von Bielfelt, had taught him that it was a noble's duty to help those in need, and that a title meant nothing if not backed by action. These were words that Wolfram took to heart; he was a man of action – spontaneous as it often was.

That did  _not_  mean he had to enjoy digging through the mud, however.

Grimly he stripped off his fine jacket, rolled up his sleeves, tied his hair up in a thong, and began to sift through the ashy rubble. There was not much to salvage – these refugees had had little to begin with. He made a mental note to ask Gwendal about sending supplies out with the workers who would come from the Capitol to help rebuild.

_Speaking of which._

Wolfram sought out the figure that had been the source of much frustration for him for the past two days: the double-black, Yuuri Shibuya.

The young maryoku-user was sitting idly, surrounded by a pack of children who were looking to him in wonder and asking him about one thing or another. The dark-haired man's naiveté and irresponsibility were an endless source of annoyance to Wolfram, but he couldn't deny that Yuuri had a way with people. In great contrast to the gloom that had seemed to follow the Maoh candidate around all of yesterday, Yuuri was talking with the children in an animated manner.

As if on cue, Yuuri made a funny face and a wild gesture that made the children around him burst into giggles.

To be able to inspire such joy in the wake of a calamity like this…well, Wolfram couldn't say that the double-black had  _zero_  potential as a Maoh.

Maybe, Wolfram thought, with some support and a nudge in the right direction from himself, Yuuri wouldn't be a  _total_  failure at court. It would take a determination, and a  _lot_  of personal grooming on Yuuri's part, but deep down Wolfram knew that with his help, Yuuri could become something grand.

But Shinou help him, if Yuuri tried to bite him again, Wolfram  _would_  punch the double-black in the face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original ffnet Note: 
> 
> "I enjoy writing Wolfram, because he gives me a chance to let out my pompous inner writer. Such a misunderstood child he is... *pats his head*. Also, Yuuri is going to get his shit together one of these days, I swear.
> 
> (Furthermore: "I am an AVENGER!" Adalbert screams as he rips open his shirt. He is wearing red, white, and blue spandex underneath. He pulls a tacky mask and cape from nowhere and dons them lasciviously. He is Captain America. "Avengers assemble!" he shouts to the sky, but nothing happens. He is in the wrong series. This is dumb, he thinks. The author agrees.)"


	10. What Must Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolfram tries his best.

**Temple of Shinou, Shin Makoku**

Ken Murata, newly Great Sage of the kingdom of Shin Makoku, ran his hands deftly over the surface of the Forbidden Box that had lain hidden in the bowels of the Temple for the last four thousand years.

This Box, so named Inferno on the Tundra, was supposedly leaking evil magical energy into the very air around it – a poison that had slowly permeated throughout the country in the last thousand years since the seal which bound it had inevitably worn off, causing conflict as far as it could reach. It was his job now to refresh the seal and contain the evil, an essential duty to his role as the Great Sage.

And, Ken had an audience. Prince regent Gwendal von Voltaire and his royal aide Gunter von Christ watched on with interest as Ken worked, the beautiful man with lavender hair looking about ready to burst with excitement as he waited for Murata to demonstrate his magical prowess.

Truth be told, Ken had no idea what he was looking for. Sure, he had a number of memories from the original Great Sage, but he had lived a lot of lives between then and now – farmers, peasants, wily young noblemen, even a doctor... He probably knew more about harvesting potatoes than he did refreshing magic seals (and he did not know a lot about potatoes, to be sure).

But Murata closed his eyes and reached out with his maryoku – something he only recently discovered that he had – and felt for leaking magic. His let his mind wander far back, as far as it could go, really, and let instinct take over. Sure enough, Ken's maryoku reached out on its own and filled in the cracks in the seal as soon as he found them. He watched it passively.

It was interesting that the color of his maryoku took on a light purple color – often one's color reflected the user's personality, though this was old knowledge whose use had probably faded with the passage of time. Purple suggested a mysterious nature, often hinting at a duplicitous personality. Ken couldn't argue with that, he thought. Shibuya, whose excessive amounts of maryoku seemed to cause the air around him to vibrate and glow with its hue, was a deep blue – blue, for empathy and purity.

"That should do it." Ken hummed and hopped to his feet, legs protesting from his prolonged crouch.

Gunter smiled angelically at Ken, hands clasped earnestly in front of his chest. The angel metaphor was not helped by the fact that the man was literally dressed entirely in white.

"How fascinating, Your Eminence!" Von Christ cried, "to see you work in person is an honor - no, a privilege!"

Next to him, Lord von Voltaire rolled his eyes dramatically. Ken was inclined to agree.

"If that is all—"

"It is." Ken cut in with a smile to match Von Christ's.

"Then we will be returning to the castle." Gwendal finished irritatedly. Oh, how Ken enjoyed ruffling up people who took themselves too seriously.

With hidden enthusiasm Gwendal departed from the Box's chamber, eager to be rid of Ken's company. Reluctantly Gunter followed, throwing an apologetic shoulder Ken's way before following his gloomy lord.

As soon as Ken finally found himself alone, he dropped the smile and exhausting exterior. Turning to the Box, he ran his fingers absentmindedly over the grainy texture of the scorched wood. The magic within it reacted to his presence, and the surface of the box seemed to sizzle under his fingertips. Ken frowned and withdrew his hand, becoming thoughtful. Even though it was sealed afresh, he thought, the evil inside of the box was very much alive.

Yes, something very troubling was at work in Shin Makoku. Ken had work to do.

* * *

**Blood Pledge Castle, Shin Makoku**

The court of Shin Makoku was known for its uniqueness, even amongst other countries. Its special nature was the result excessive conflict (what else could result from meddling aristocrats who lived for hundreds of years?) and complicated history amongst the ten noble families – a history Wolfram von Bielfelt knew well.

Before a series of border disputes that escalated the tensions between demons and humans over two and a half decades prior, Shin Makoku had been entrenched in a battle of civil rights. Half-blooded mazoku, who had faced oppression long before their role as the vanguard in these border conflicts, demanded equal rights as they were indiscriminately sent to the front lines. Stoffel, who stood in as Regent due to his sister the Queen's inexperience in extra-national conflict, scoffed at the notion. The von Spitzwig family had always been a long supporter of tradition and was content to regard half-bloods as second-class citizens.

The von Bielfelt family was very much the same.

But the Queen's second son, Lord Conrart Weller - who had just graduated from the Military Academy and was entering the Court at this time - was famous for his skill with a sword, and even more so for being the son of a human man.

Those leading the civil rights movement for half-bloods were quick to latch onto Lord Weller as a political figurehead – the Prince, who had been allowed the privileges of full-blooded mazoku his entire life. Wolfram had thought it ridiculous, but Lord Weller gladly accepted the role of pariah and had battled heatedly for equal rights to be rewarded to 'his people' throughout the Court. It was around this time that the border disputes with neighboring human countries had erupted into a full-blown war.

This was a difficult time for the half-blood equality movement. Noble families who supported the Equal Rights Movement were accused of 'siding with the humans', and faced even more antagonism than usual. More often than not, the half-bloods themselves were accused of treachery due to their hereditary ties to Shin Makoku's enemies.

Half-bloods became desperate to prove themselves.

Stoffel, always the opportunist, jumped at the chance to utilize their vulnerability. Once again Conrad's 'people' found themselves on the front lines. However, it became more and more clear that these Demons who could not use maryoku were suffering. They were poorly equipped and barely supplied - with every battle more of their numbers were lost. This was a fact not lost on the Queen, Cecille von Spitzwig.

Wolfram remembered very clearly the confrontation between Conrad and his mother before the iconic Battle of Luttenburg. Celi had been desperate to preserve her son's life, and begged Conrad to forgo fighting, to stay in the Capitol with her and train soldiers. Conrad felt he was obligated to fight at the side of 'his people', to  _earn_  the equality they were all out there dying for.

Conrad had been presented with a choice between family and martyrdom. He had chosen to fight.

That was the very day Wolfram had started to hate his brother.

After the disaster that was the Battle of Luttenburg, where all Conrad had _earned_ was the fancy nickname "Lion of Luttenburg", Stoffel stepped down as Regent. During the bloody battle, Stoffel had failed to send reinforcements, resulting in the death of the entire vanguard - save for the Prince and Yozak Gurrier – and the kingdom's greatest healer, Julia von Wincott, who had perished from maryoku overexertion after trying to save the fallen.

The death of her dear friend and the near-death of her son were too much for Celi. After Stoffel stepped down, she refused to reclaim her title as Maoh. It was then that Gwendal had stepped forward and taken up the yoke of leadership, quickly ending the war with clever political movements, and forming a fragile peace with the humans.

Gwendal had remained Prince Regent since then, amassing power for the Von Voltaire family. The family and its allies – Von Karbelnikoff, Von Christ, Von Bielfelt, and Von Grantz – grasped power at Court, while the allies of Stoffel – Von Gyllenhaal, Von Radford, and Von Rochefort – were weakened by Spitzwig's shame. The Von Wincott family, crippled by the loss of its heir, withdrew into itself and had been absent from Court ever since.

What had happened since then was Old News – Stoffel had been banished from all political decisions and events, Conrad became unbearable and was sent to Earth on a mission, if only to get him out of everybody's hair; and upon his return he had immediately elected to take what few of the half-blood soldiers remained and isolate himself on the far borders of Shin Makoku.

Yes, these were the events that shaped what the Court now was – still divided as it was over matters of Equal Rights for half-bloods, full of nobles vying for more influence and all the while spying upon each other so that they would have a foothold when the scales of power inevitably teetered. Luckily there was little bloodshed (something known to be common in the Court of Big Cimarron), but one wrong move and the ire of the nobility would be against you, and any hopes you had a political career were over. More than once in the history of Shin Makoku, the tongue of a Von Bielfelt had slipped, and the offending aristocrat had been sent to a summer home in the countryside, never to return to the castle.

As Prince, this information was drilled into Wolfram's head throughout his childhood. He had been trained by his Uncle and current head of the Von Bielfelt family, Waltorona, to be graceful, well-mannered, outspoken and authoritative-

-All qualities that the double-black, Yuuri Shibuya, lacked.

"This is dumb!" the double-black in question whined, slumping in his seat as he absentmindedly stabbed the table with his bread knife.

Seething, Wolfram gestured for a servant to clear the table. The woman, standing by in wait for such a time, scurried forward with a cart to collect the dishes. The woman didn't have the courage to pry the knife away from Yuuri, and left the young man to his abhorrent behavior.

Wolfram moved the platter of food that rested between them to the side, then reached across the table and smacked the knife out of Yuuri's hand - sending the piece of silverware spinning down the table where it was snatched up by a second servant.

"This is not  _dumb_ , you invalid!" Wolfram hissed, "In Court, you will be asked to attend dinner parties by possible enemies, or even worse, potential allies. If you have any wish to grasp some political influence and not completely embarrass yourself, you are going to need table manners that will not send the nobility  _screaming for the hills_!"

Yuuri shrank down into his seat, looking very much like a kicked puppy.

"Is the violence really necessary, Wolfram?" Conrad sighed from a seat further down the table.

Since Yuuri had been recovered from the refugee village three weeks ago, Conrad had been assigned officially as Yuuri's bodyguard. Unofficially, however, he was really just a babysitter for the double-black, who couldn't seem to go a day without getting into some kind of trouble.

This meant that throughout Yuuri's lessons, given both by Lord von Christ (who had volunteered to teach the teenager dancing) and Wolfram, the ex-soldier was always present.

Which meant Wolfram was always pissed off.

"Silence!" Wolfram snapped at the man, "You will not coddle him! If only he sat still and stopped worming around, maybe he would actually  _learn_ something."

Conrad raised an eyebrow. "Wolfram, I don't think—"

"You are not to speak." Wolfram gritted out between clenched teeth, "We wouldn't want him getting any wrong ideas. Not all of us were raised in noble houses,  _Lord_  Weller."

A hurt look passed over Conrad's face, but Wolfram's biting words had the desired effect: the man fell silent.

Yuuri stared blankly into the air, frowning lightly with a thoughtful look on his face.

"Why doesn't Conrad have a 'von' in his name like everybody else does?" The double-black wondered aloud.

Sighing, Wolfram took a seat once again, cradling his forehead in an open palm.

"Von Christ already told you about the Ten Noble Families." Wolfram's other hand was a fist under the table. "Weller's father was a human – he is not a full-blooded noble, or even a full-blooded mazoku, for that matter. Only nobles have 'von' in their names."

"I wonder if  _I'm_  human…" Yuuri replied airily. "I was born on Earth, after all."

"A full-blooded human wouldn't be able to use maryoku."

"Then I could be half-human!"

"You are not to speak of such things at Court." Wolfram said darkly, fixing Yuuri with a stern glare that demanded he be obeyed.

"Why?"

Very,  _very_  pointedly not looking at Conrad, Wolfram merely replied, "It's a touchy subject."

For the rest of the lunch hour, manners and Shin Makoku politics were crammed (not so gently) into Yuuri. Wolfram had promised himself that he would get Yuuri ready for court, and he always kept his promises.

He wishes he had known, in hindsight, just how  _wild_  Yuuri was.

Yuuri was a menace to anything small and moving. Dropped items rolling across the floor, the dragging skirt of a maid, birds flying past the windows – regardless of what it was, the moment Yuuri spotted something that could be mistaken for something he had once 'hunted' (Wolfram's nose wrinkled at the word), the double-black would bolt away and pounce on the offending object. More than once a maid had screamed upon looking down and finding Yuuri tangled in her skirts, or the double-black had flung himself from a window to catch a bird with his bare hands. The latter instances often tested Conrad's reflexes, and it became a contest of speed – would Yuuri catch the bird before Conrad caught Yuuri?

The effects of Yuuri's presence in the castle were beginning to become more and more apparent. Servants were beginning to tie up their skirts and coattails. More often than not, the curtains would already be closed upon entering a room. Belongings that shone were often kept hidden under clothing, shiny bits decorations like buttons being removed altogether. People were careful to make their presence known, lest they accidentally startle the young double-black. Small pieces of clothing were all counted and hidden, though that didn't prevent a glove or sock from going missing from time to time. Wolfram had no idea where Yuuri hid them all, since he shared a room with Conrad.

Then there were behaviors of Yuuri that  _nobody_  could fix – the double black could climb furniture and find high perches in the blink of an eye. Just as quickly, Yuuri could melt away into shadows without a sound. When he wasn't trying to hide, he barreled down the hallways with reckless abandon, knocking over and ruining more than one flower vase in the process.

The castle had become his new jungle.

Wolfram had pulled Conrad to the side one afternoon and demanded that the man find Yuuri a hobby, something to burn off the double-black's excessive energy. Conrad's solution was a game from Yuuri's home world: a sport called "baseball" that Conrad had enjoyed during his stay on Earth.

Yuuri took to the game immediately, though the specifics of the rules were lost on him.

Mostly it involved Yuuri hitting a ball with a stick, then running wildly in as many circles as possible before Conrad could catch the ball and return with it to the playing field. Wolfram thought it was ridiculous, but the results couldn't be argued with: after being sent to bathe, Yuuri would return to his lessons worn out and quiet. The only downside was that Yuuri's frequent daytime naps increased in quantity, and Wolfram was often forced to scold and smack him in order to keep him awake.

His table manners were a different atrocity entirely.

As a boy, Wolfram had disliked learning about the various forks and plates and glasses involved in a meal. There were cake forks, salad forks, dinner forks…and they each had their own time and place at the dinner table; the same could be said for the other utensils. Speaking while drinking from his glass had been a terrible habit of his as a child, and it had taken his tutor great effort to train it out of him.

Wolfram had thought the man and everything he tried to teach tedious. Wolfram had been a terror as a child, unruly and inattentive. But now, more than ever, he felt sympathy for his teacher as he tried to instill the lessons he had been taught into Yuuri, and continued to fail miserably.

_The salad fork is not a brush for your hair_. Was one of the things Wolfram had had to explain within the past several weeks.  _That is a wash basin to clean your hands between courses,_ not  _a water dish. No, it will never have soup in it. You will chew all food in your mouth, quietly, before you speak. Stop using the red and white wine glasses to cover your eyes and pretend you have glasses. Get your smelly feet off the table or so help me._

"That's enough lessons for now." Wolfram sighed wearily at the end of the lunch hour, standing from his place across the table from the double black. "You will not be required to dine at the ball, so we have time yet to polish up your table manners."

Yuuri looked relieved, visibly deflating where he sat. But the mention of the upcoming ball soured his expression.

After Yuuri's actions of heroism at the human refugee village, word of his existence spread like wildfire throughout Shin Makoku and its neighboring countries. Word of Ken Murata's appearance as the next Great Sage was equally affecting. For a few days after the incident and the Great Sage's arrival, the country had been quiet, like the calm before a storm.

Then, like a paper hurricane, literally hundreds of runners with correspondence letters had begun to arrive at the castle each day, inquiring about the identity of the new double-blacks. Most of them had been from the Ten Noble families, but among them were letters from ambassadors, military authorities, and governments outside of Shin Makoku. The general consensus was that Yuuri was being concealed from the public eye to serve as a secret weapon against invaders. Others believed him to be a fourth son of the Queen's, hidden to prevent scandal and political unrest. A few correctly guessed that he was undertaking training to become the next Maoh.

The network of Yozak's spies was equally abuzz, the Spymaster reported in a missive. Enemies of Shin Makoku had sent out a wave of operatives, scrambling to discover whatever they could about Yuuri and the new Sage.

' _I'll be careful to control what they do and don't hear.'_  Yozak had slyly promised in his last letter.

It was clear that now that the cat was out of the bag, Yuuri would need to make a debut before the country imploded, or another war started. The Queen, always excited to throw a party, had announced the ball a few days later.

Celi had carefully planned the event to be far enough into the future as to give Yuuri time to prepare, but soon enough so that rumors wouldn't have enough time to fester. It would be the first Court event in over a decade, and what played out there would affect the country greatly in the coming years. On the surface the ball was a celebration of Conrad's return and reintroduction to court, as well as a farewell for Celi, who was taking up the role of ambassador to Shin Makoku and would spend the next year travelling to the nations of human allies.

Truly, however, members of the noble families would be coming to take a gander at the two double-blacks shrouded in secrecy and scandal.

"Onto your fitting, then." Wolfram ordered, rounding the table and shooing Yuuri out of his chair with the agitated wave of his hands. "His  _Eminence_  should already be there - maybe you'll behave when he's the one having to put up with you."

Yuuri brightened at the mention of Murata, turning to Conrad with a wide grin. Conrad gave a small smile in return, the underwhelming likes of which seeming to unsettle Yuuri, whose cheery expression dimmed.

Whatever was going on between the two, Wolfram wanted no part of it.

"Away with you –  _both_  of you!" Wolfram growled, glaring at Conrad and Yuuri in turn. "I've already had enough of your goofing off for one morning. Go on and get your measurements taken, then I will see you in the evening with Lord von Christ to review the names and houses of the Ten Aristocrats."

Yuuri could not get away fast enough. Jumping out of his chair, the teen scrambled across the dining hall and towards the nearest door. There he stood in wait for Conrad, albeit impatiently as he seemed to wiggle in place. If the teen had a tail, it would be wagging. Wolfram regretted his scathing comments about comparing Yuuri to a dog that he had made the first day he met the double-black, but in that moment he couldn't deny that Yuuri greatly resembled one of the dogs his father had kept at the Bielfelt estate, waiting to be taken out to play.

Conrad was slower to rise from his seat, taking a moment once standing to straighten his jacket and check the sword at his hip.

The man glanced briefly at Wolfram, an unreadable but melancholy expression in his eyes that Wolfram met with indifference, before turning away.

As his estranged brother escorted the man who would (hopefully) one day become the next Maoh out of the room, Wolfram looked out the tall and ornate stained glass windows of the dining hall. This part of the castle overlooked the royal gardens that his mother so dearly loved, full of flowers that she herself had bred and named.

Wolfram sought out the blooms named for him, finding them towards the front of the garden – "Beautiful Wolframs" they were called, delicate lavender-pink blossoms turned upwards towards the sun. Towards the back, the oldest part of the garden, were the "Secret Gwendals", heavy, purple, bell-shaped flowers pointing downwards towards the earth. "Cecille's Red Sighs" seemed to line the perimeter of the garden, reminding Wolfram of how his mother would wrap her arms around her sons in a loving embrace.

And in the very heart of them all, in a section that until very recently had been empty, stood the vibrant, teal flowers that for so long had been absent from the garden.

Wolfram watched the freshly-bloomed "Conrad Stands Upon the Earth" blossoms sway gently in the summer breeze, and wondered if everything he had worked towards over the past several weeks would come to naught.

* * *

Yuuri stared at his greatest enemy, a sense of dread overtaking him. This day would come, he had known. It was unavoidable, really, that this confrontation would take place. And there was no chance of winning for Yuuri. He had fought bravely, but it was time to face—

"Put on the damn boots and get out here, wimp!" Wolfram hissed through the dressing room door, voice laced with impatience.

Yuuri's face screwed up in distaste as he grabbed the first boot and slipped it over a heavily-stockinged foot. It was as uncomfortable and confining as he had imaged it would be, and he hated it.

But today was the today. The ball that he had trained so hard for for over a month was in full swing, and it was time for him to make an appearance. Weeks of dancing lessons, torturous quizzes over nobility, and etiquette training had all led up to today.

He wasn't ready for it at  _all_ , he thought, as he slipped the second boot on.

He stood, testing the feeling of having his feet encased in leather, and looked at himself in the mirror provided for him. Frankly, he didn't recognize himself - not that he had gotten many chances to look at his own reflection while living in the Dragon Wood. But he certainly knew that no-one would be able to guess that only a few weeks prior to this, he had been riding dragons in the uncivilized wilderness.

Yuuri was a vision in black.

He wore a simple jacket with a high collar that buttoned under his chin, with long sleeves that dipped low across his palms (hiding the many scars adorning his upper torso). Two rows of golden buttons began at his shoulders, running horizontally until his collar bones, when they began to converge together across his chest until they met at a point and continued downwards, forming a round 'Y' shape. A thick leather belt was cinched around his waist, accenting and sharpening his figure. The jacket was paired with equally black pants and boots (sigh), and over it all, a short black cape covered one of his shoulders, draping across one side of his chest as low as his fingertips. His hair was tied up but styled around his face, and around his neck and wrists sparkled various golden necklaces and trinkets, which Yuuri found annoying and distracting.

He hated all of it.

He looked like a different person, he thought, but a person he didn't much care for. The outfit was ridiculous - it was excessive and overly fine, impractical and hindering. He smelled of sweet perfumes, his face caked with layers of makeup that accentuated his eyes. He wanted to take all of it off and hide.

But he had promised himself that he wouldn't run away anymore. He didn't want to become Maoh, but these people had answers to his many questions. Murata knew his past – where he had come from, what he was supposed to be. Since running into Adalbert von Grantz, though, something had been nagging in the back of his mind. There was more to his story, and he was going to figure out exactly what that was.

"Are you done yet?" Wolfram's voice called, doorknob beginning to turn as the blonde mazoku let himself in.

The doors to the dressing room swung open, Wolfram entering with an impatient frown, followed closely by a worried-looking Conrad.

Laying eyes upon the double-black, both men froze. Wolfram looked mesmerized, irritated expression melting away into one of intrigue. Conrad, on the other hand, looked startled. The ex-soldier was struggling to recognize him, Yuuri knew. More than anyone, Conrad had gotten to see what Yuuri looked like in his natural form. The disconnect between Yuuri's feral self and this creature dressed like a nobleman standing before him must have been mind-boggling.

"If only you could just walk around court without having to speak or interact with anyone else," Wolfram sighed wistfully, staring at Yuuri in his finery, "Then this would be too easy. Such a dashing dark horse you'd make. All your enemies would be licking your boot heels all the while singing your praises. You'd be elected Maoh in no time."

"If only." Yuuri replied dully, crossing his arms self-consciously in displeasure.

Conrad and Wolfram were dressed in exquisite uniforms. Wolfram's was of a light blue fabric, stitched with thin gold thread that matched his hair, and sapphires. The plain cravat he usually wore had been replaced with a finer thing made of lace. He, too, wore make-up on his face, his large green eyes framed by the impossibly long eyelashes that he and his mother shared.

Conrad wore a simpler jacket, white and dark grey with bright silver buttons that brought out the brilliant flecks in his eyes. An ornate and useless-looking sword hung lazily at his side, though Yuuri didn't doubt that anything could be deadly in the ex-soldier's hands.

"Well, we're already fashionably late." Wolfram sniffed as he tore his eyes away from Yuuri. "Let us be off."

Suddenly nervous, Yuuri's hand shot out as if it had a mind of its own. He gripped Conrad's wrist and clung to it like a lifeline, knowing in his heart that he was not ready for this.

"I'm not ready." His mouth echoed traitorously, heartbeat beating in his ears.

Wolfram glanced at Conrad, raising an eyebrow.

"Give me a moment with him," Conrad said softly to his brother, "Please, Wolfram?"

The blonde mazoku narrowed his eyes, but didn't outright scold the man. Green eyes drifted between Yuuri and Conrad, looking thoughtful, then turned away.

"You have five minutes." Wolfram closed the doors behind him as he stepped out of the dressing room, leaving Yuuri clinging helplessly to his charge.

"Yuuri...what's wrong?" Conrad murmured, crouching so that his eyes were almost level with the teen.

" _I feel so lost._ " Yuuri choked out in his native language, holding back tears with enormous effort. " _I don't feel like_ me _anymore."_  Yuuri pointed at his reflection in the mirror. " _I don't know who that person is, but I hate him._ "

"Yuuri-"

" _And you hate him too._ " Yuuri sobbed dryly, in a voice more mournful than accusatory.

"Yuuri, I don't hate you!" Conrad said, eyes wide with surprise. Large and calloused hands flew to Yuuri's shoulders, gripping reassuringly. "How could you think that..?"

" _Ever since we got back from the forest,_ " Yuuri hiccupped,  _"You don't talk to me anymore. You look at me like I'm a stranger. But that's what we are, aren't we? Strangers._

_"Your people live for hundreds of years, and you grew up with them. How old are you? A hundred? More? I'm eighteen, Conrad. You've only known me for a few months. I'm just a short breeze blowing through your life at the moment, brief and insignificant. We barely know each other._ "

Yuuri laughed helplessly, but the words wouldn't stop.

" _And what you do know about me is that I'm dangerous. I attacked your family, nearly got your friends killed –_ did  _get some of your friends killed. I'm selfish, impulsive, and I'm stupid. I don't even know what I'm still doing here, or why any of you put up with me-"_

"Yuuri, stop!" Conrad ordered firmly, giving Yuuri a grounding shake of the shoulders. His eyes were shining with emotion. " _Listen_  to me. What happened back in the Dragon Woods, that wasn't your fault. Those soldiers knew what they were signing up for – rescue missions are always voluntary.  _Always_. If I hadn't—I could've reported in, and those men wouldn't have died. If it was anyone's fault, it was mine. And it was a dragon that killed my soldiers, not you.  _You saved me_. Me, a good-for-nothing who always runs away from his problems and hurts those he cares about."

Conrad shook his head, and then stood and pulled Yuuri close to his chest. The warmth of Conrad's embrace comforted him somewhat, and his grief lessened.

"And you…you  _are_  important to me, Yuuri. We both have our short-comings. You're so new to all of this, but you're trying so hard, even though you have no obligation to. I am so  _proud_  of you, Yuuri.

"But I am a coward." Conrad snarled, tightening his grip around Yuuri's shoulders. "And I have taken out my uncertainty on you, and you have never deserved it. Not once. I am so sorry, Yuuri."

Eyes glossy, Yuuri sniffed and looked up to Conrad's face. The man was openly crying, sending Yuuri over the edge as well. This moment of intimacy between them was like a breath of fresh air after nothing but smoke – it stung a bit, they both knew it was what must be.

"I'm still not ready." Yuuri's voice quivered as he dried his eyes, undoubtedly smearing his makeup.

"Neither am I." Conrad replied thickly, a small but genuine smile slipping into his features. "But we've both faced worse. What's a few nobles when you've fought dragons, eh?"

Yuuri couldn't help the chuckle that slipped past his lips then.  _That's right_ , he remembered. With Conrad at his side, he could face anything. He had been alone for so long, and Conrad had been his first ever friend. If staying with this man meant he might never return to his home…then, just maybe, it wouldn't be so terrible.

Yuuri stole one final hug from Conrad, then smacked his cheeks to focus himself.

"Alright." Yuuri whispered, "I can do this."

Conrad, taking motivation from Yuuri and his words, smiled and opened the door. Wolfram was waiting outside. Seeing the two, the blonde mazoku groaned dramatically.

"Shinou help us all." He said irritatedly, "You've ruined your makeup."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original ffnet Note:
> 
> "Yuuri, staring at himself in the mirror: WHOOOOO IS THAT GIIIRL I SEEEE"


	11. The King's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and the gang crash a party.

**Blood Pledge Castle, Shin Makoku**

Gwendal had never been a huge fan of parties. There was still not a single moment in any of the balls his mother hosted that he could say he enjoyed – not the decorations, not the dancing, and especially not the people. However, due to growing up as Crown Prince of the Maoh, his position as the Von Voltaire family leader, and his taking up Cecile's role as country leader, he had slowly begun to regard these over-extravagant flauntings of wealth and power as a necessary evil.

 _Indeed_ , he thought as he listened to the muffled music beyond the great doors with Cecile, the parties did have  _some_ use. These gatherings were best for reminding political enemies just who was in charge. All the spies in the world couldn't compare to the information that spilled from the loose tongue of an inebriated noble. More so, parties were an excellent place to gather blackmail.

Though he truly wanted, no –  _needed_  – blackmail against one person in particular.

Anissina von Karbelnikoff.

The woman in question was standing across the hall from him, talking animatedly with Gunter von Christ as they waited to be introduced to the Court. Gwendal felt the slightest twinge of amusement watching the two.

Gunter donned his house colors, the white and lavender robes he wore almost blinding in the dimly lit hallway. His hair was an intricate braid, entwined with lilies, and his sashes were stitched with opals. The man he now called his aide had always had a flair for feminine decoration, which was no surprise considering his unofficial title as a famed beauty of the Court. It went without saying that he flourished at these events.

Anissina, in contrast, lacked any sort of flair. Her gown was a simple red, barely any different from the ones she usually wore during her visits to the castle, which were almost daily (most likely due to her brother's unwillingness to deal with her at the Karbelnikoff estate). Gwendal knew her well, and knew she detested these parties even more than himself. Gwendal admired her non-conformity, but much like her brother, knew that only heavy-handed coercion could get her to bend to his will.

Hence, the blackmail.

The exquisite contrast between the two nobles was almost laughable. Anissina and Gunter were no political schemers. They both were too readable, too vocal in their opinions. But the Prince Regent couldn't deny that they were both passionate, and he regarded them as friends.

Ani was a scientist, and despite her near-obnoxious levels of curiosity and tendency to rope him into things, she was intelligent and determined. Gunter was equally skilled at handling people – he possessed the delicate touch that Gwendal lacked. It was to him that Cecile had entrusted Conrad at the Academy, when his brother had been wily and unpredictable, still mourning the death of Dan Hiri Weller.

Gwendal cringed at the memory of Dan Hiri, and decideded that he would cease the line of thinking while he was ahead.

"Your design is an interesting one," Gunter said thoughtfully to his companion, "but the disadvantages of combining maryoku enhancers to heavy artillery weapons seem to outweigh the benefits. Your plans would need to be revised before I could contribute-"

"No, no, no!" Anissina shook her head in denial, "not maryoku  _enhancers_ , I'm talking about stones that can be charged with maryoku and be expelled in large bursts. Such as the stone rumored to be on the sword of legend, Morgif."

Gunter paused, seeming to process her vision. "Those can also be mined in my territory, my lady. But what you're suggesting would require a lot of stones…"

"Not  _many_ ," Anissina replied and smiled wolfishly, "just  _big_."

Looking startled, Gunter looked down at Anissina with an expression of mild horror. "What kind of weapons are you planning to build exactly, Lady von Karbelnikoff?"

Ani clasped her hands together as her faced melted into the same kind of dreamy expression that Gunter got when he spoke of Conrad's double-black.

" _Imagine_ , Lord von Christ," she said airly, " _maryoku cannons—_ "

"Those will not be built  _or tested_  anywhere near the castle." Gwendal growled in warning, knowing when it was time to step in.

"Awww," Ani pouted, "but the area around the palace is always so charged with maryoku! Filling the stones to capacity would take half the time in Blood Pledge's general vicinity. Plus, it's not like I would fire anything  _in_  or  _at_ the Capitol…"

"No." Gwendal said darkly and with finality, brooking no argument from the red-haired woman.

A sly look appeared on her face, then.

"Well," Ani responded coyly, "you could always lend me that new double-black you have hidden around here. Rumor has it he has  _plenty_  of maryoku to spare…"

Rolling his eyes, Gwendal crossed his arms defensively.

"He is not  _hidden_." The Prince Regent grumbled, "You will have the chance to meet him later this evening. You can ask him to help you when he gets here." Gwendal threw an agitated glance down the heavily guarded hallway, " _If_  he gets here."

"If you say so." Ani quirked an eyebrow, but her eyes sparkled with curiosity. The noblewoman seemed to let the issue go, however. She turned to Gunter, face falling.

"Lord von Christ, if you would please escort me into the torture chamber." she sniffed dismally as she held out an arm.

Smirking, Gunter entwined his arm with hers, and they turned to the large wooden doors that served as entrance to the ballroom. Two servants, anticipating them, opened the doors wide enough for them to walk through with little extra space.

"Lord Gunter von Christ, Leader of the Christ territory of the Ten Noble Houses, and General of the Shin Makoku armed forces," the Herald of Arms - standing just inside the doorway - called after the pair had taken a few steps in, "and accompanying him, Lady Anissina von Karbelnikoff, 'Anissina the Red' of the Imperial Court".

The murmurs following their introductions became muffled as the doors were shut again in front of him, leaving Gwendal and his mother alone in the hallway once again.

Gwendal glanced casually at his mother, who had been uncharacteristically quiet the entire day. The former Queen stared at the now-closed doors, possessing a look of barely concealed sadness and pain. This may have been missed by the average person, who could not penetrate her heavy layer of cosmetics nor think beyond her dazzling, low-cut, emerald dress. Cecile wore her armor well, but Gwendal had known her for longer than anyone in the kingdom. Save for one person, perhaps.

"Julia would not want you to spend the entirety of your party mourning her," Gwendal said lowly, so that none of the guards around them could hear his words.

Cecile chuckled, though it was dry and possessed no humor.

"You've always been able to read me too well, Gwen." His mother whispered sadly. Her face tightened the tiniest bit, "I haven't thrown a party since she passed, you know. We used to plan them together. She would bounce Wolfram in her lap while I tried on dresses – 'You look dazzling in that one especially', she would tell me…as if she could see it."

Gwendal remembered well the bond that his mother and Julia the White had shared. The fact that Julia was blind and far younger than she had never bothered Cecile – the Queen had briefly considered engaging Conrad to the woman before Julia had announced her betrothal to Adalbert von Grantz – a secret few knew.

"It wasn't attending or planning the parties that Julia enjoyed," Gwendal murmured, "It was spending time with you. You were always the most important concern of hers. She would want you to be happy, Mother."

Cecile sniffed, but then straightened. Her eyebrows furrowed, her mouth molded into a firm, commanding line. But as she looked up to her son, her eyes held nothing but affection.

"You're right." She responded firmly, the hurt (though not the sadness) disappearing from her person, "Thank you."

Gwendal nodded slowly, and just then, the sound of hurried footsteps carried down the hallway.  _Finally_ , Gwendal thought as Conrad and Wolfram appeared, accompanied by a trussed up Yuuri.

 _He cleans up well_ , Gwendal thought as his eyes drifted from the elaborately dressed double-black to his two brothers, who both looked nervous.

"Where's the Sage?" Gwendal growled when he saw no sign of the bespectacled youth.

"Present." The dark-featured teen replied airily from behind Gwendal, making the Prince Regent jump.

Gwendal spun around, glaring at the mazoku who very recently had taken up the title of Great Sage. The man wore a smaller pair of glasses that didn't make him look quite so fish-eyed, and fine purple robes stitched with silver thread. He was much like Gwendal – dressed simply, but in a way that commanded respect and attention.

"I presume you remember the plan?" Gwendal grit out with some irritation, trying and failing to not give Ken Murata the satisfaction of seeing him lose his cool.

"Of course." Murata beamed, beckoning Yuuri over to his side. The wild teen threw Conrad a nervous glance before joining the other double-black.

The plan was as such – introducing Yuuri as member of the Great Sage's company and not the royal family's would sever any ties that could be perceived between Yuuri and the Shin Makoku royalty. Simply put, the royal family was refuting the claims that Yuuri was a fourth child of Cecile's, or that he was a secret weapon, by refusing to associate with him. This would be damaging to the reputation of an average nobleman, but Yuuri was anything but a nobleman. He was to be introduced to the Court as a ward of the Great Sage - not a position of any great Title, but not one completely insignificant either.

"Come then, Shibuya." Murata beckoned, lacing his arm around Yuuri's elbow. "Let's go knock their socks off."

Yuuri was visibly shaking, a fact that the cloak concealed well. But he did not run – Yuuri allowed himself to be obediently led to the great wooden doors, which were already opening to permit him, Murata, and a select few members of Murata's guard entry.

"Shinou help us all," Wolfram murmured as the two double-blacks entered the ballroom.

The Herald of Arms looked stricken, from what Gwendal could see, and totally at a loss for words. Gwendal couldn't say he blamed the man – the presence of two such beings in Court was totally unprecedented, save for Shinou and the original Great Sage four thousand years ago. Murata paused, throwing a glance over his shoulder at Gwendal, before leaning in to whisper something to the Herald. The Herald nodded dumbly, then took a step back and took a deep breath.

"Introducing himself to the Court," the man called out, causing a lull in the conversation around the great room, "His Eminence Ken Murata, newly inaugurated as the Great Sage to the kingdom of Shin Makoku."

The room had gone deathly silent, something that Gwendal had never witnessed in his time within the company of the Court. The ominousness of it sent chills down his spine – he could feel the electricity and the tension in the room from where he stood.

"And accompanying him – also introducing himself to the Court," the Herald continued, his voice echoing around the chamber, "Sir Yuuri Shibuya, Ward of the Great Sage and The Temple of Shinou's Official Consultant on Magical Beasts."

* * *

 _What in Shinou's name was Murata thinking!_  Conrart wondered, mouth hanging open shock. ' _Consultant on Magical Beasts?'_

Wolfram seemed to share his sentiments, stunned into silence.

They had carefully picked a backstory for Yuuri – he was to be the son of a farmer, as low class as they came. Far removed from fine culture, he grew up in the fields. When he was fourteen, he had been orphaned and sent to live with an aunt in an equally far-away village. There he was apprenticed to a blacksmith, where he had received his many scars and the particularly nasty burn on his hand. Conrad had discovered him while patrolling through border villages in the kingdom, and noticing his great amounts of maryoku, had decided to bring him to the Capitol to be a scion for the new Great Sage.

But all of it was for naught now - all of their caution and planning had been blown out of the water by Murata's scheming. What would a blacksmith's apprentice know about magical beasts?

Conrart's head swiveled stiffly to look at Gwendal, expecting him to be furious. But his brother was silent, thoughtful. Celi's face was one of delight.

"Oh, how clever." She crooned, rubbing her hands together mischievously, "Remind me to invite that Great Sage over for tea sometime."

Wolfram spluttered, confusion evident. "He's ruined everything, Mother!"

"Perhaps not." Gwendal mused. "The Great Sage – the original one – is known for his research just as much as he is for his ties to Shinou. By claiming that Yuuri is a magical consultant, His Eminence is insinuating that he also has interest in magical research, tying a direct link to himself and the first Great Sage. Everyone in that room will be cautious to question any of his advice now and in the future – and by extension, Yuuri's."

"And it can also be used as a believable backstory for Yuuri," Celi chimed in, "We could say that Yuuri grew up  _near_ the Dragon Wood, rather than  _in_  it, where he was conducting research on the magical beasts that lived there. That area is just as far removed from the Capitol, and could account for his lack of…experience with other people, and his peculiar mannerisms."

"It makes him sound like a reclusive weirdo." Wolfram whined, clearly frustrated but not able to deny his mother's claims.

" _I_  think it makes him sound interesting and mysterious." Celi hummed, a playful smirk appearing on her face.

Gwendal grunted, unwilling to comment on it further, but having nothing to say in opposition to what Celi had said. His initial shock had worn off, but Conrart suddenly felt worried for Yuuri. They had rehearsed everything thoroughly – would Yuuri be able to handle such a sudden change of plan?

"Nothing can be done about it now; the Great Sage will have to handle it." Gwendal said tersely, watching Conrart. Then his older brother glanced at the three of them standing there, and took a deep breath. "Come," he said wearily, "It is time for us to enter."

Conrart felt a sudden rush of familiarity as his family took up their old formation – Gwendal taking the lead, arm-in-arm with their mother (except now it would be Celi escorting Gwendal, and not the other way around), while Conrart and Wolfram flanked them on either side. To be together with his mother and siblings, to see them all  _whole_  again, was breath-taking. Conrart pushed down the emotion that rose in his throat.

The servants pulled the doors open completely for all of them to walk through, eyes of every guard in the ballroom suddenly snapping to them as they entered.

Conrart hadn't laid eyes on the ballroom in decades, but it had only increased in finery. It was a large bowl (more like an inverted layer cake) comprised of three tiers – the uppermost tier was reserved for doors and windows, balconies that looked out over the scenery outside as well as inside were spaced around the room every twenty feet and could be accessed by curved staircases stretching up from the second tier. The first tier is where Conrart stood now, looking down on all in the ballroom, who in turn were waiting for him to descend to their level.

The second tier was comprised of tables, lounges, and niches containing sitting areas, where guests could eat, speak, and watch the dancing – which primarily took place at the very bottom on the third tier, where the band resided on the far end. It was designed to be easily navigable but equally entrapping – one could not leave without scaling the stairs high above the eyelevel of your peers, attracting more attention to yourself the higher and closer to the doors you climbed.

The room was overflowing with drapery, flowers, candles, and lights. Great chandeliers made of glass dangled from the ceiling, casting dazzling flecks of light around the room and onto the dancefloor below. The room reeked of Celi – his mother had always had a thing for lavishness and flowers.

Undoubtedly, it was the most extravagant battlefield he had ever stepped foot on.

The people in the room itself were thunderous. Conrart winced at the volume as he entered. No doubt the shock-waves from Yuuri and the Great Sage's entrance had not yet subsided - not even the arrival of the royal family could affect the noise level. Conrart's eyes sought out the pair of black-haired heads as soon as he entered – Murata still held on to Yuuri as the two waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs on the second tier.

"His Majesty—" The Herald began, but was unable to be heard over the chatter of the room.

Irritatedly, the Herald signaled the nearest Guard.

"Atten _tion_!" The guard cried, snapping his feet together and saluting Conrart and his family.

"Sir!" Every guard in the room replied and followed suit, creating an enormous boom as the sound of clanking metal sliced through the noise. That seemed to shock the occupants in the room out of their reverie, the chatter quieting down to a loaded silence.

"His Majesty, Crown Prince Gwendal von Voltaire, Regent of Shin Makoku, Commander-in-Chief of the Shin Makoku armed forces, and Leader of the Voltaire territory of the Ten Noble Houses." The Herald cried.

Collectively every nobleman, noblewoman, servant, and guard bowed or curtsied in greeting to the Prince Regent.

"Accompanying him – Her Majesty, Cecille von Spitzwig, Queen Mother and former Maoh of the kingdom of Shin Makoku, 'Golden Cecille' of the Imperial Court."

Celi curtsied, a move mirrored by everyone in the room, before she once again took Gwendal's arm and they began to descend into the second tier.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Conrart Weller, General of the Shin Makoku armed forces, 'Lion of Luttenberg' and decorated Hero of Shin Makoku."

Conrad's face tightened, trying not to wince at the titles. He wasn't deluded enough to believe he had deserved any of them. Avoiding Wolfram, his eyes drifted to Yuuri, who looked confused and surprised all at once.

"-And His Royal Highness, Prince Wolfram von Bielfelt, of the Bielfelt territory of the Ten Noble Houses."

Conrart and Wolfram descended completely to the second tier, passing Gwendal who had stopped half-way down the staircase so that he could address those in attendance with ease. Conrart slipped easily to Yuuri's side as his eldest brother began to speak.

"My Lords and Ladies," Gwendal addressed the room in a diplomatic voice that sounded so  _wrong_  in Conrart's ears, "We gather here today to celebrate – to celebrate the service of my mother, who has served the kingdom to the best of her abilities over the past several decades, and who will now be embarking on a journey to outside kingdoms as an official Ambassador of Shin Makoku."

A polite applause bubbled up, and Celi gave a curtsy once again. Her smile was radiant, effectively masking the self-consciousness she undoubtedly felt. She had never been comfortable or proud of her decision to retire as Maoh.

"And we are here to congratulate my brother, Prince Conrart Weller, on his full recovery and subsequent return to the Imperial Court."

Conrad bowed, if only to disguise the look of guilt on his face. He hadn't been recovering since his return from Earth – he had been running.

"Now," Gwendal said with finality as the diplomatic voice began to slip, "Please enjoy yourselves."

With a wave of Gwendal's hand, the band at the far end of the room began to play. Knowing they were dismissed, the nobles that had gathered near the second tier staircase dispersed, a storm of furious whispers following them throughout the ballroom.

As the royal family and the two double-blacks gathered at the bottom of the staircase, Conrart's eyes swept over those in attendance. There were perhaps two hundred and fifty people there, most nobility. Without a doubt the other leaders of the Ten Noble Houses were present, and would be watching Yuuri, Murata, and the royal family very closely.

"I hope you all don't mind my improvisation." Murata whispered, a hint of smugness in his voice.

"Listen here,  _you_ -" Wolfram hissed heatedly, but didn't get to finish his thought before Gwendal raised a hand to silence him.

"What's done is done." Gwendal rumbled, throwing a quick disapproving frown at the Great Sage. "But what His Eminence said is…acceptable. We can work with it."

Murata beamed, but Conrart was busy looking at Yuuri. Under his makeup, the wild teen was looking very green. Knowing he was being watched but not caring, Conrart gave Yuuri a reassuring pat on the shoulder and a lopsided smile. Yuuri looked up to Conrart with his own shaky smile in return.

Wolfram cleared his throat.

"Yuuri, you will be staying at my side tonight." Wolfram eyeballed the double-black in question, as if daring him to protest, "I'll be able to handle any fast ones anyone tries to throw at you."

"And Lord Weller will be my escort." Murata hummed happily. "They'll be too focused on me to wheedle you."

Conrart immediately felt a spark of irritation at the insinuation that he needed protecting, but at the same time felt relieved. He wasn't ready to face the full brunt of the court's curiosity just yet. He quietly nodded, acquiescing.

"Well then, good luck to you all!" Celi grinned, before sweeping away from the group and towards the dance-floor. Several heads turned her way as she did so, followed by a general hubbub as several noblemen struggled to reach her side first and ask to have the first dance.

Gwendal likewise departed – he would spend the evening with Anissina, Gunter, and other members of his camarilla and retinue.

Conrart looked down at the Great Sage, but the man was gone. Startled, Conrart twisted around – he watched as Murata walked purposefully away from him and around the second tier, where his table sat at the next to Conrart's at the head of the room.

Cursing under his breath, Conrart walked quickly in order to catch up with Murata – the man was smiling mischievously.

"You'd best keep up, Your Royal Highness." Murata chuckled, "I am  _very_  hungry."

* * *

Yuuri felt with relative certainty that he was going to throw up before the evening was done. The lights were too bright, everything was so  _shiny_. He didn't know what he was supposed to look at first – he kept spinning in place, which was making him quite dizzy. And when he focused, the threads of magic were  _everywhere_. He had never seen so many magic users in one place, making him excited and nervous all at once.

The ball had been in swing for a couple of hours. Yuuri and Wolfram had avoided getting pounced on for the most part because they had decided to eat first – there were few brave enough to approach them while seated at the Great Sage's table, and those that were were deflected by Wolfram's icy stare. Yuuri was glad he had not been separated from Conrad immediately after the party started – the ex-soldier and Wolfram had deigned to eat at Murata's table to keep the two double-blacks company.

They had eaten as slowly as possible, staving off the inevitable while they could. But the party was in full swing now, and they could not justify sitting on the sidelines for much longer.

"Come, Yuuri." Wolfram had said as the bells chimed, signaling the arrival of the eighth hour. "I shall introduce you to my Uncle."

Wolfram and Yuuri stood, Yuuri giving a brisk bow to Conrad and Murata in farewell – the necessity of which had been one of many things drilled into him over the past several weeks.

"Good luck!" Murata called as Yuuri followed Wolfram into the meandering crowds.

Yuuri could feel eyes lingering on him like hands grabbing at his skin as Wolfram led him past several tables. Yuuri tried to shake the creeping feeling as best as he could, focusing on his goal.

"Yuuri," Wolfram whispered, pulling the wild teen closer as they walked, "the furs you were wearing that day they brought you into the castle. What did you use them for?"

"To—" Yuuri stammered, caught off guard, "to mask my scent? To make me look like a predator to wolves and other animals that wanted to eat me…?"

Wolfram nodded wisely. He pinched a bit of black fabric between his fingers.

"This," the blonde mazoku murmured while gesturing to the fabric and Yuuri's entire outfit, "Is the same thing. It helps you blend in, and masks who you truly are."

Yuuri's eyes widened.

"Wear this, and you wear armor." Wolfram continued, " _Hiding in plain sight_. With this and what you've been taught, you cannot lose. These nobles cannot eat you. Remember that."

Yuuri was stunned into silence, turning Wolfram's words over and over in his head. He wasn't quite sure he understood, but somehow he felt immensely better. He shaking subsided. He was safe. He was about to thank Wolfram, when suddenly he was jerked to a stop.

They stood before a table, where a very large collection of blonde-haired mazokus sat. Yuuri could tell instantly that they were related to Wolfram - a few in particular bore striking resemblance to Celi's third son. In fact, many of the men and women there looked eerily similar: pale, blonde, delicate, and beautiful. Wolfram nodded his head in greeting.

"Welcome, dearest Uncle." The Prince bowed respectfully, seemingly to all of them.

A man, older than but just as fair as the rest who was seated at the table's head, returned the gesture with a polite nod. He was draped in light blue robes, edged with lace and stitched with light purple stones. The softness of his outfit did not take away the sternness of his features, however. The man possessed piercing green eyes and a set jaw that demanded obedience. He bore the most resemblance to Wolfram of any at the table – if Wolfram aged several years, Yuuri was sure the two might be nearly identical.

"My greetings to you as well, Wolfram." The Bielfelt nobleman replied in a direct but not unkind voice. The man inclined his head to Yuuri. "A friend of yours, nephew?"

Wolfram nodded once, placing a firm hand on Yuuri's shoulder.

"Yuuri, may I present Lord Waltorona von Bielfelt, leader of the Bielfelt Noble House, and also my Uncle."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Waltorona's lips, giving the distinct impression of gentleness, but the man's eyes were hungry as they raked over Yuuri.  _Crow_ , Yuuri decided after briefly wondering what kind of animal the Bielfelt head reminded him of,  _Tricky and deceptive, but can be bargained with_.

"I—it's my pleasure." Yuuri nearly forgot how to respond, tripping over his words as he bowed.

"Uncle," Wolfram continued, "this is Yuuri Shibuya. He is to be His Eminence's consultant on magical beats, as you heard. He is new to the Capitol, the Court especially – please overlook his stumblings."

Waltorona smiled, leaning forward to rest his folded hands against the table.

"To this day, the workings of the Court remain a mystery to many of us." The Head said, accompanied by agreeable nods from the Bielfelts around him, "Rest assured, so rarely are the shortcomings of one not also the shortcomings of many. What truly matters is how you make up for them – that is how you will set yourself apart from the masses." Waltorona chuckled dryly. "Or so it was once said by my brother. He was truly a wiser man than I."

"My Uncle gives himself too little credit." Wolfram sniffed, "He is the noblest head the Bielfelt family has had in a thousand years."

"So my nephew insists." Waltorona sighed in defeat, but Yuuri detected a hint of pride at Wolfram's words in the depths of the Bielfelt head's eyes. "Tell me, Ser Yuuri, how you came to be at the Capitol. The rumors surrounding the event of your arrival are…stirring."

Several of Wolfram's family members giggled, as if the statement were an inside joke. Yuuri shuffled, uncomfortable.

"I was young when I was hired to be the assistant of a researcher," Yuuri recited, recalling the new backstory Wolfram and Conrad had hastily thrown together, "My parents passed when I was young – I grew up on the outskirts of the Dragon Wood, learning the craft of my master. One day there was an accident –" Yuuri executed his pained wince perfectly, showing all at the table the burn scar on his palm (which he had really received from the copper dragon), "My master was killed by a dragon in the valley, before reaching any real fame for his research. I vowed to finish his work."

"He was the one who discovered and sheltered Conrad." Wolfram chimed in.

Yuuri nodded somberly. "Conr—the Prince was wounded by a dragon while on patrol. I treated his wounds. He felt my knowledge of the Dragon Woods and the fauna within would be useful to the kingdom, so he returned here with me."

"And you saved a village full of refugees on the way?" Waltorona hummed thoughtfully. "Oh – my apologies, you had already arrived at the castle before that event. Lord Weller must have made quite an impression on you, then, to have you patrolling around the kingdom so close to dawn. How lucky it was you were there."

A sense of dread hit Yuuri like an avalanche.  _He knew_. Waltorona knew, somehow, that Yuuri had tried to run that night. It was not the worst thing that the man could know about Yuuri, he supposed, but  _oh_  did he feel ashamed of himself in that one moment.

And that was, perhaps, the intended effect of Waltorona's words. The nobleman gave the tiniest, genuine smirk – the first real expression Yuuri had seen on his face since meeting him.

"Yuuri was running an errand for the Great Sage at that time." Wolfram interjected hastily, "He was taking a survey of nocturnal fauna in the area when he witnessed the attack, and handled it before we arrived. We were truly lucky he was there."

Both of Waltorona's eyebrows rose, the man's delicate features looking speculative.

Yuuri felt awful about making Wolfram lie to his Uncle, but at the same time felt touched that the Prince regarded him so highly. Waltorona's face was unreadable as he watched Wolfram, but Wolfram's face was earnest and unwavering.

Waltorona shrugged.

"Nonetheless, it will be interesting having you around the Court." The Bielfelt leader continued noncommittally, leaning back in his chair, "It will be refreshing, having someone not as drab and dull as some of those from other houses."

Again, the Bielfelts around Waltorona giggled.

"Excuse me, Ser Yuuri!" one of the Bielfelts spoke up, a wide-eyed girl who was the spitting image of Waltorona, who could have be no older than thirteen (though Mazoku could look deceptively young), "Did you study dragons?"

Waltorona made a sound between a laugh and a groan.

"My daughter," he said, "has been reading far too many books by that Karbelnikoff woman. All she wants to do now is kill dragons and save princes."

"I don't want to  _kill_  dragons!" The girl replied in annoyance, wrinkling her nose, "They're an endangered species.  _I_ think they're  _fascinating_."

Yuuri couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.

"I like them too." He said, "Though they're very dangerous. You have to respect their territory or else they'll try to chase you off, which is why so many people get attacked. They're kind of like dogs, just more territorial…and with more teeth. And they can breathe fire."

The girl squirmed in her seat excitedly, as Waltorona sighed again, "A man after your own heart, Sofie."

"How interesting!" A woman somewhere at the table cried.

"Tell us more, Ser Yuuri!" Another boy pleaded.

"Now, now," Waltorona waved his hand at the table occupants, "This is Ser Yuuri's first day with the Court. He has many people to meet, and we must not delay him if he is to make an impression."

More than one disappointed sigh could be heard from the Bielfelt table, but Waltorona's word was absolute.

"It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Yuuri Shibuya." Waltorona von Bielfelt's words were dismissive, giving Yuuri permission to leave.

Yuuri knew a gift when he saw one. He and Wolfram both bowed in farewell.

"We must catch up over tea sometime, Uncle." Wolfram finished formally, before pulling Yuuri by the elbow away from the table.

They took several hurried steps away from the table, before Wolfram pulled Yuuri into a niche hidden from the view of the tables. The blonde mazoku turned to Yuuri, a wide grin on his dazzling face.

"I think he likes you!" Wolfram whispered happily, clapping Yuuri on the shoulder.

"He thinks I'm a coward." Yuuri responded mournfully, but couldn't deny that he felt a certain elation after not completely failing.

Wolfram frowned, and shook his head.

"My Uncle has no time for cowards. He wouldn't have spoken to you if you weren't worth his time. He sees potential in you, too."

_What truly matters is how you make up for your shortcomings._

Waltorona's words echoed in Yuuri's mind, their significance becoming clear to him now. The Bielfelt leader knew he wasn't brave, but also knew that Yuuri had more to offer. Suddenly, Yuuri felt a grudging respect for the man form in his mind – he really  _was_  wise.

"Come on, you need to meet more heads." Wolfram urged, dragging Yuuri away from the safety of the niche.

Who Yuuri met next was a wiry man with red hair and far too many feathers on his robe (Yuuri felt himself tense in anticipation to pounce, but Wolfram jerked him by the elbow and gave him a warning look), who was much younger than Waltorona - the head of the Karbelnikoff family. Before the man could even introduce himself, a woman who shared his hair color threw herself into a chair at his side, eyeing Yuuri eagerly.

"Densham von Karbelnikoff" Wolfram introduced, then turned to the woman, looking weary, "and his sister, Anissina von Karbelnikoff."

Densham and Anissina were apparently twins, but Anissina had forgone her title of Heiress in the name of science; instead joining Gwendal's camarilla of various nobles. When Densham ascended as family leader, his first action was to buy a villa at the edge of the Capitol and send his sister there, tired of her scheming. But Anissina liked it better there anyways, and Densham was a big meanie who deserved to live all by himself out at the estate. The estate was so much quieter now that Anissina was gone, however, and Densham could get so much more work done without all her racket.

All this, and more, was what Yuuri learned during the few minutes he spent listening to the two bicker. Yuuri liked Anissina instinctually, the woman's fiery temperament earning his affection instantly.

Wolfram, one the other hand, had had his fill and decided it was time for them to move on.

"A moment, Yuuri!" Anissina called before the pair could get completely out of earshot. She scampered away from the table and clamped a hand like iron on Yuuri's shoulder upon catching him, making Yuuri feel distinctly like a mouse in the talons of a hawk, "I was talking with Gwendal earlier, and he suggested you might help me with something…"

" _No_." Wolfram said firmly, startling Yuuri. "He will not be partaking in any of your  _experiments_ —"

"Lord von Bielfelt, you misunderstand me," Anissina said coolly, narrowing her eyes at the blonde mazoku before returning her gaze to Yuuri, "I am in need of someone who possesses a great deal of maryoku – not as a test subject, but merely as…" Anissina's free hand grasped at the air as she struggled to find the right word, "a battery."

" _Ugh_ ," Wolfram groaned and rolled his eyes, "Pay her no heed, Yuuri, she'll bleed you dry for everything you have—"

"I'll do it." Yuuri replied kindly, giving Anissina a genuine smile. Upon seeing Wolfram's flabbergasted face, Yuuri added, "In the name of science."

Anissina squealed happily and wrapped Yuuri up in a large hug, lifting him completely off the floor. Yuuri momentarily lost the ability to breathe.

"I knew I would like you!" She cried happily, before setting him down and skipping away, "I'm going to go find Gwendal! He'd love to know!"

Both Yuuri and Wolfram watched her go silently, neither quite sure how to react to the woman.

Then, Wolfram turned his face away from Yuuri, and muttered ominously, "You will come to regret that decision."

"She's quite strong, isn't she?" Yuuri wondered out loud, still watching where the red-headed woman had disappeared into the crowd.

"She doesn't have an ounce of elegance." Wolfram sneered in respone.

Next they encountered Luitgard von Radford, a wise and old-looking man with whom Gunter was chatting with on a balcony of the first tier. Gunter had expressed in earlier lessons that he held a great respect for the man, describing him as a "soldier among soldiers". Yuuri could see familiarities between the way Conrad and Lord von Radford carried themselves, and knew innately that the man would have quick reflexes and fidgety hands.

Spotting their approach, Gunter smiled brightly.

"And here is the man of the hour," Gunter cried happily, "Yuuri! We were just discussing you."

Radford turned to watch Wolfram and Yuuri ascend the stairs leading up to their balcony – Yuuri was immediately struck by the fact that he and Murata wore the same round glasses. The double-black bowed in greeting once reaching the top (he was quickly growing tired of all the bowing), which was politely returned by Von Radford.

"My greetings, Yuuri Shibuya." Radford welcomed in a warm voice, "Your exploits at the refugee village are becoming quite famous."

"Thank…you?" Yuuri wasn't sure what to say.

"I myself would not have interfered without reinforcements," Radford hummed thoughtfully, "Powerful though your maryoku may be, all it takes is a lucky arrow or accidental friendly fire to end your life. Human refugees especially are not always certain as to who is friend and who is foe."

"Lord von Radford has had many dealings with human invasions and immigrations in his day," Gunter explained, "And many refugees are located to his territory – though most of them come from Conanshia and Svelera to the south."

Nodding, Radford replied, "Indeed, many refugees arrive on trade ships from their ports. Most humans come from across the sea, from Small and Big Cimarron - hoping to escape the near-constant war between those two giants and expecting for Conanshia or Svelera to be any better."

"Svelera?" Yuuri interjected, remembering the name from one of the many lessons Gunter had given him. "Didn't that country recently collapse?"

"It seems Gunter has instructed you well in current events," Radford glanced at Gunter, who was positively glowing with pride, "But not quite. It did not collapse, but rather witness a coup. The royal house there was overthrown by a rebellion. Now a Council rules there – an oligarchy."

"They must have had outside sponsorship, this new Council, to have established order so quickly after grabbing power," Wolfram said blankly, levelling an unhappy stare at Radford, "New governments do not form without some kind of financial backing."

The corner of Radford's mouth twitched upwards into a kind of half-smile.

"His Royal Majesty had a similar concern. Perhaps you should ask Lady von Rochefort – as you know, she is a businesswoman who receives the most trade from outside countries. If anyone knows of large capital exchanges, it would be her." Radford gave a half-shrug, "My expertise in in ore mining and weaponry, my territory's specialties as you know."

"Indeed." Wolfram mumbled grumpily, looking out over the ballroom as if seeking no one in particular.

"Pardon me for taking up so much of your time." Radford apologized suddenly, bowing at the waist. "Please do not let me keep you."

"It's not a problem...!" Yuuri began to insist, before Wolfram pinched his arm.

"We thank you for your time, Lord von Radford." The blonde mazoku acknowledged stiffly.

"I wish you luck in your goals for success at Court." Radford said as he turned to Yuuri, "I think you could make quite the Maoh."

Yuuri's mouth dropped open in astonishment, "I never said anything about—"

"When a company is selecting horses for a march, the general often picks the strongest, biggest, and most intimidating one to ride at the front." Radford explained mysteriously, "Kingdoms are much the same – for generations, the voice of Shinou has often singled out the most magically gifted man or woman to take up the throne. The last time Shinou spoke nearly two hundred years ago, he selected Golden Cecille. Who knows?" Radford chuckled, "Perhaps next, it will be you?"

Yuuri's brain was still processing this when Wolfram pulled him away from the two heads and down the stairs to the second tier.

The two walked briefly in silence, before Wolfram scoffed and carded his fingers through his hair.

"I don't like him." Wolfram grumbled, "He's always scheming and talking in riddles. It's no wonder Gwendal sends Gunter to figure him out."

"He didn't seem that bad?" Yuuri said as he frowned.

"He didn't formally introduce himself to you when I didn't do it for him," Wolfram huffed, "he was testing you – a rude thing to do when you first meet someone. And so condescending!  _Ugh_!"

Yuuri replayed his conversation with Luitgard von Radford over in his head – indeed, the man hadn't given Yuuri his name and status. But Wolfram had already told him before they met the man, so what was the problem? And Yuuri didn't think the man had been condescending – was it rude to treat someone like they didn't know anything when they truly didn't? The workings of the Court truly  _were_  a mystery to Yuuri. He heaved an internal sigh.

Fighting off any lower-class nobles who 'dared' to interfere with Yuuri's quest to meet the Ten Aristocrats, Wolfram eventually led Yuuri to the final pair of house heads, who were conveniently talking with each other.

Lord Virgil von Gyllenhaal and Lady Amala von Rochefort were 'thick as thieves', as Gunter had put it. 'Emphasis on  _thieves_ ' Wolfram had replied bitterly. In other words, the two were primarily known for their port cities, where imported goods and supplies arrived for the entire kingdom.

"Lord von Gyllenhaal isn't too bad, but that Rochefort woman is a  _vampire_  when it comes to taxing the crown for the goods she transports." Wolfram had explained to Yuuri, "Lord Virgil is always weak around a pretty face – which the royal family has plenty of."

And Wolfram wasn't wrong in his portrayal of them – Gyllenhaal was immediately receptive to Yuuri, hanging on his every word during their conversation. Rochefort possessed a somewhat cold exterior, watching Yuuri's every move judgmentally. Yuuri was not fond of either of them.

"The Dragon Wood seem beautiful from how you describe them," Lord Virgil sighed, running his fingers wistfully through his long silvery-blonde hair, "I should like to go sometime. Perhaps Ser Yuuri would do me the kindness of being my guide."

"Don't be silly," Lady Amala sniffed reproachfully, "that area borders on mine – I get nothing but trouble from those Woods. My people's livestock go missing all the time. We practically have to keep them under lock and key!"

For several minutes they talked this way, Gyllenhaal exuding interest in Yuuri, while Rochefort seemed to disapprove of everything the double-black said.

"She just doesn't like your inexperience." Wolfram explained to him after they had departed from the two and were returning to their table for a snack, "She'll warm up to you…probably." The blonde mazoku's tone of voice suggested that Wolfram was still waiting for Rochefort to warm up to  _him_.

The pair had nearly reached Murata's table when Yuuri felt a small tug on his sleeve.

Yuuri halted and glanced down – there stood Sofie von Bielfelt with his sleeve in her slender fingers, with a second girl clinging to her side.

"Ser Yuuri, my acquaintance would like to beseech-" Sofie's face screwed up in distate at the too-formal words that seemed to be foreign to her. "This is Beatrice," Sofie began afresh, "she's the daughter of an ambassador from Hildyard, and she wants to dance with you."

"Oh." Yuuri replied flatly, suddenly nervous again.

He looked to Wolfram for help, but the blonde mazoku was watching on with a sly grin.

"You aren't in any position to refuse a request from my honorable cousin,  _Ser_  Yuuri." Wolfram teased, "Besides, perhaps this partner will match your level of 'skill', if you could even call it that."

"Don't be rude,  _Your Highness_." Sofie sniffed in a manner greatly resembling her cousin.

"If it's too much trouble…" Beatrice began hesitantly.

Yuuri waved his hands in denial, "No, it's okay! I'm just not very good, is all." Yuuri admitted sheepishly.

"Neither am I." Beatrice replied with a fine blush. "Sofie said you were new to the Court, so I assumed…"

"I don't mind, I really don't." Yuuri beamed, offering a hand. "Let's go."

Beatrice shyly took the offered hand, and together they walked to the stairs leading down to the third tier. Yuuri had dreaded this moment, knowing the three measly weeks of dance practice he had gone through wouldn't be enough to keep him from embarrassing himself. He had discovered that he enjoyed music – it was pleasing to his ears, and he wouldn't mind listening to it every day if he was afforded the opportunity. He detested dancing, however.

But seeing the small girl at his side just as nervous as he was awakened a protective instinct inside of him. This wasn't about him, he told himself. Beatrice, who couldn't have been older than ten, was ten times as scared as he was in this moment.

The dancefloor was an entirely new battlefield to Yuuri – one he was not going to face head-on today. He led Beatrice to the far side, winding around several pairs of nobles who were already dancing. There they were somewhat hidden from view, a fact that Beatrice seemed to appreciate.

Together they joined hands and began to sway. Yuuri couldn't remember the name of the dance if his life depended on it – he watched those around him in an attempt to mimic them. Luckily it was slow at first, letting Yuuri feel for the rhythm, before the speed of the music slowly began to escalate after a brief period of time.

Beatrice giggled as she and Yuuri both began to slip up with the increase in tempo. The longer the dance went on, the more obvious it was to Yuuri that he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. With Yuuri leading and being hopelessly lost, there was no chance that he was going to retain his appearance of elegance.

So, he gave up altogether.

Beatrice outright laughed as Yuuri picked her up and began to twirl at the end of the song. Once her feet touched the ground, they danced in ferocious circles. Yuuri twirled her in place, her hair and dress flaring out wildly around her. All fear and nervousness were gone from Beatrice's face as Yuuri finally looped an arm around her waist and dipped her to the floor.

She was giggling when the music stopped, and clapped her hands when he pulled her upright.

"That was amazing and entirely inappropriate," She giggled breathlessly, before her face grew serious, "Let's run."

"Let's." Yuuri snorted, and Beatrice took the lead this time, pulling Yuuri off the dance-floor and up the stairs to the second tier.

Celi, Sofie, and Wolfram were waiting at the top of the stairs. Sofie wore an amused smile, her hand reaching out to grab Beatrice's before the two girls were scampering away, giggling and quietly whispering to themselves. Celi and her son had no doubt been watching the entire dance; Celi was grinning from ear-to-ear. Wolfram was frowning, but it held no malice in it – there was a teasing glint in his eyes.

"That was terrible and you should feel ashamed." Wolfram scolded, but his voice was tight, as if he was trying not to laugh.

"You two looked so adorable." Celi cooed, ignoring her son, "You should dance with me, Yuuri – if I'm the one to do those moves, they'll be all the rage at the next ball."

Wolfram scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You would break your ankle trying to mimic what he just did, Mother."

There was the sound of a throat being cleared behind the group.

Celi stiffened, she and Wolfram both turning to reveal a man that had wandered up to them while they had talked.

The man was heavy-set, his carefully groomed beard and combed-back hair a few shades lighter than Celi's, with beseeching purple eyes glued on the former Queen. The man wore a dark red jacket lined with white – colors of the Spitzwig house. Yuuri recalled that Wolfram had not introduced him to anyone of that house this evening at the same time he noticed a resemblance between the faces of Celi and the male mazoku at her side.

"Stoffel." Celi said in the flattest voice Yuuri had ever heard her use. It was not a greeting.

"Cecille, how good it is to see you-," the Spitzwig Head began before Wolfram cut him off with a hiss.

"What are you doing here, you snake?" Celi's son spat, moving to stand in front of his mother.

Stoffel held up his hands defensively, taking a cautious step back.

"Lord von Bielfelt, if I may. Now that Cecille will be departing the country as an ambassador, I will need to come to Court to perform my duties as head of Spitzwig house." His eyes drifted to his sister, "She will not be here to act as my family's representative, after all."

"Do not talk of me as if I am not right here." Celi whispered harshly, a slight tremble in her voice. "What do you think you're doing, Stoffel? You could have come after I was gone. Why these games?"

Stoffel's face fell.

"I have missed you dearly, sister. You are a golden flower that illuminates the lives of all those you meet. The halls of the Spitzwig estate are not the same without you there."

"I am not your sister any longer," Celi retorted, looking as if she were about to faint, "Not after what you did."

"What  _we_  did!" Stoffel snapped, his meek demeanor slipping to reveal what he truly was beneath.

Celi took a shuddering gasp and she flinched at his words, her eyes flying closed as a hand came to cover her mouth.

Wolfram growled, advancing forward another step. Noticing he had overstepped himself, Stoffel slipped the peaceful expression over his face once again. Yuuri was glued in place, the raging emotions around him petrifying him.

"If all you did was come to wreak havoc," Wolfram's voice shook with rage, "Then you had best leave."

"I came to do no such thing," Stoffel replied, bowing his head in apology. Wolfram truly had been correct when he called the man a snake. The man's purple eyes drifted to Yuuri, "I had heard there was a new arrival at the Court – I came to pay my respects."

Stoffel turned from Wolfram and bowed politely to Yuuri

"Yuuri Shibuya, isn't it?" Stoffel said, the calmness in his voice making Yuuri feel slimy, "it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Stoffel von Spitzwig, leader of the Spitzwig house."

"My greetings to you." Yuuri replied carefully. 'Nice to meet you' or 'my pleasure' would have implied Yuuri felt some kind of enjoyment about meeting the man.

A small smile tugged at Stoffel's lips from the response.

"I would love to have you over for tea at the Spitzwig estate sometime, Yuuri," Stoffel hummed, "You look as if you have many interesting stories to tell."

Yuuri nodded dumbly, not trusting himself to say anymore.

"And, you should bring Lord Weller with you. I would love to personally congratulate him on his recovery."

" _You will do no such thing!_ " Celi's outburst made Yuuri jump, and caused many of the meandering nobles around them to pause and look on in wonder.

"…Cecille, be reasonable…" Stoffel was defensive again, but the exasperated look on his face made Yuuri itch with annoyance.

"You are not welcome in my prescense  _or his_ ," Celi hissed, looking in that moment a mirror image of Wolfram, "Not after  _your_  failure nearly got him killed…my precious son…!"

"The human blood in him makes him irrational and bloodthirsty," Stoffel bit back, his mask slipping, "It was his decision to fight, and only his. Anything that happened as a result was no fault of mine."

Yuuri could see the scene that would happen next unfolding before it came to be – Celi looked indignant, the outrage on her face marking that Stoffel had just crossed a line. In response, Wolfram's hackles were raised, and he was tensing to pounce - he would be on the man in a matter of seconds. Yuuri had barely any time to think, but Waltorona's words flashed through his mind:

_What truly matters is how you make up for your shortcomings._

Wolfram would disgrace himself and his house if he struck Stoffel, something it was clear he was about to do. Somehow Yuuri knew this, and in that second before all hell broke loose, jumped into action.

" _Stop destroying my family_!" Wolfram screeched, and lashed a hand out at Stoffel.

But the punch never connected – not with Stoffel.

In the time it took Wolfram's hand to reach Yuuri's face, his fingers had not had adequate time to curl into a fist. Instead Wolfram's open palm connected with Yuuri's cheek, his nails slashing the soft skin under Yuuri's eye.

Yuuri hissed in pain at the stinging sensation, immediately pressing his hands against the skin to apply pressure to the wound. The smallest amount of blood began to well up under his fingers.

The eye he wasn't covering fell to Wolfram, who stood frozen in place with a face full of shock and horror.

Celi covered her mouth with a hand, her eyes wide in disbelief and glassy with tears.

And beyond them, the nobles watching the drama had fallen deathly silent - whether it be in horror or intrigue - but all were looking on with bated breath, waiting to see how Yuuri would react to Wolfram's slight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original ffnet Note:
> 
> "Oooh, the scandal! Bit of a cliffhanger on this chapter, I'm afraid. :)
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, even if it was obvious that I know nothing about music or dancing LOL. I tried my best with everything else, though - all of the house heads showed up in the anime at one point except for Grantz, so I tried my best to round out all of their characters a little more (We'll get to see Wincott later, no worries). Shout out to Wikipedia and the KKM Wikia for like 75% of the references I used for this chapter (also I found a fan-made world map by tumblr user bielefelts, YAAAS)."


	12. A Golden Opportunity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuuri is conspicuously absent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter I have uploaded onto ffnet. I will try to update regularly from here on out.

**Blood Pleadge Castle, Shin Makoku**

" _Stop destroying my family!" Wolfram screeched, and lashed a hand out at Stoffel._

_But the punch never connected – not with Stoffel._

Conrart paced quickly down the palace hallway, knowing that Gwendal was waiting for him. And not just his older brother – a number of head figures among the Shin Makoku elite would be in the prince regent's office as well, waiting to plan their next move. Celi's second son sighed unhappily, not looking forward to the meeting at all.

He threw a furtive glance out the window – it was a beautiful day outside. In the distance he could see the winding streets of the Capitol, no doubt bustling with activity, the commoners busy with their daily lives and ignorant of the drama that now plagued Conrart's life.

It had been two long weeks since Wolfram accidentally slapped Yuuri's left cheek, but both young men were still feeling the sting.

Worse things had happened in the history of Shin Makoku, but the incident with Wolfram was by far the biggest scandal that had occurred that evening. Still, Conrart was somewhat relieved that as it was, the damage could be contained - he knew it could have been so much worse. It was Stoffel they had been dealing with, after all.

After the incident, both young mazoku had been removed from the party, Celi opting to accompany her youngest son. Yuuri had been tended to by Gisela, though the cut below his eye hadn't been serious. Celi had taken Wolfram to her chambers, to blow off steam and reflect on his actions.

And what actions they were… _had almost been,_ Conrart corrected.

If the Bielfelt Heir had struck the Spitzweg Head, a number of things would have followed. Firstly, it would have been perceived as an act of aggression towards the Spitzweg house as a whole, and the Bielfelt family would have had to take several steps to repair the damaged relationship – probably involving a lot of treasure and political favors. On a more intimate level, Wolfram would have become indebted to Stoffel, as demanded by polite society. Knowing Stoffel, the Spitzweg head would have used the indentured Wolfram to influence Gwendal, and maybe even Celi. Who knows how the Bielfelt house would have reacted to such a thing – Waltorona was a proud man who did not bow his head easily.

But none of this would come to pass, for it was Yuuri who had come to bear the brunt of Wolfram's fury. Since Yuuri was officially a servant of the Great Sage, and was several social ranks below Wolfram himself, the matter was not as scandalous as it could have been and thus became an issue between the Temple and the Royal family. Murata had been lenient with his dealing of Wolfram, simply asking that Wolfram pay retribution for the slight against Yuuri by helping him at the temple for a while.

This had worked out in Wolfram's favor, however – it allowed the young Prince to lie-low out of sight of the public eye, and to give him a few days to cool off. He was usually hot-tempered and stubborn, but his actions had taken a turn for the impulsive ever since Conrart had returned.

Conrart pondered if Yuuri knew what he had done by intercepting Wolfram's blow, or if it had been pure protective instinct driving the young teen. Either way, Yuuri had saved them all – saved Wolfram from Stoffel's power grab, rescued Gwendal from a blow to his political influence, and in a way had even protected Celi. These were all things Conrart and the rest of the Council knew. In the past two weeks the nobles in Gwendal's inner circle had all experienced a shift in perception when it came to the wild teen, from one of wariness to one of respect and (in Gwendal's case) grudging gratitude.

To witness his family beginning to see what Conrart himself saw in Yuuri made his chest clench warmly with pride. So much of Yuuri had changed since coming to the Capitol, but the young man was still perceptive, empathetic, and courageous when it counted most.

He had also been missing for the past two weeks.

Well, not missing. Conrart knew the young mazoku was currently hiding out at the Temple of Shinou, as was Wolfram (since Gwendal had directed both of them to stay out of sight). The absence of Yuuri from the castle was hard for Celi's middle son to bear, however.

God, Conrart missed Yuuri. The ex-soldier craved the way the teen looked at him, eyes accepting and unafraid. His skin craved the comforting touches of the double-black, and he recalled the way gentle fingers had traced his scars so long ago in the Dragon Wood…the light brush of a hand against his own. Yuuri's mere presence was comforting and warm, like a gentle summer rain.

_You're just waxing poetic, aren't you?_  Yozak's voice teased from the back of Conrart's mind.

_So what?_

Conrart had finally arrived at his destination, reaching out a hand and knocking on Gwendal's door. He didn't wait for permission to enter, merely pushing against the heavy wooden thing and encroaching upon the rest of the group that had already assembled.

Gwendal, Gunter, and the Great Sage were already waiting for him.

"About time you showed up." Gwendal quipped, though his voice held no malice – probably attributed to the fact that he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"My apologies for the delay." Conrart responded sincerely.

"This is all of us?" Murata asked curiously, cocking his head to the side.

"Yes," Gwendal replied tiredly, "Since Mother has departed already, and we've confined the two hot heads to the Temple for now…"

"You can hardly blame Wolfram," Conrart interjected, "If  _I_  had been the one to run into Stoffel and heard him speak in such a fashion…"

Conrart wouldn't finish the sentence, but his brother and former mentor could fill in the blanks: Conrart would have done much worse than punch the man.

"He will be present in Court events from now on, Brother, since Mother is no longer able to serve as the Spitzweg house representative." Gwendal groused, "You  _will_  have to see him at some point. And you  _will_  behave yourself when that time comes to pass. Wolfram has already gotten himself into enough of a mess as it is, causing a scene like that."

"Can you believe some of these ridiculous rumors?!" Gunter huffed angrily, "That Wolfram and Yuuri are now engaged…"

"Slapping someone as a proposal?" Murata frowned as he said it, wrinkling his nose, "Now  _that's_  an archaic Court tradition, and that's coming from  _me_."

Gunter nodded vigorously in agreement, obviously upset.

"Who could have witnessed that scene and thought there was any romantic intent behind it?" The Von Christ head blubbered, looking like he was on the edge of tears.

Conrart was inclined to agree with the man, his throat clenching a little with disgust at the idea of Yuuri engaged to his  _brother_  of all people. He would have to thank his Mother for not immediately jumping at the idea – Conrart knew that if there was anything Celi enjoyed more than a party, it was a  _wedding_. For now there was still deniable plausibility – the Royal Family could refute such rumors once the scandal died down.

"That is neither here nor there," Gwendal responded, leaning back in his seat, "Because neither of them will be in the Capitol for much longer.

_What!_

"What?" Conrart echoed his thoughts dumbly, too startled to give a more intelligent reply.

Murata frowned, concerned, "I know the ball didn't exactly turn out as planned, Your Majesty, but to banish them from the Capitol as a punishment is a little…"

"It is not a punishment." Gwendal cut him off, reaching a hand out to Gunter.

Gunter reached inside his robes and pulled out a small, folded piece of parchment with a wax seal. The seal was broken, but seeing Gwendal's unsurprised reaction, it was apparent that he had already read the missive. Conrart shifted in his seat, suddenly nervous.

"A report from Yozak," Gwendal said by way of explanation, before continuing, "I received this last night – its contents are most troubling."

"It appears that Big Cimarron possesses a Forbidden Box." Gunter said faintly, handing the missive to Gwendal.

Conrart's mind was immediately racing in alarm. Murata, on the other hand, seemed thoughtful, if unperturbed. Upon seeing the Sage's reaction, Gwendal raised a speculative eyebrow.

"This does not alarm you, Your Eminence?" The prince regent rumbled suspiciously.

"…It is certainly concerning, Your Majesty." Murata replied cautiously, "But no, not surprising. It is common knowledge that Shinou entrusted the Forbidden Boxes to his four followers after sealing what was left of the Originators within them. Is it so hard to believe that after four thousand years, an ancestor of one of the followers wound up in what is now Big Cimarron?"

This made Gwendal pause, and slowly the look of suspicion disappeared from his face.

"It is possible." Conrart's elder brother acquiesced, "But not exactly comforting."

After a moment of tense silence, Gwendal spoke again.

"This explains Big Cimarron's recent acts of aggression towards Shin Makoku. Our relationship with them has always been strained – if they thought Yuuri was a secret weapon we just recently revealed, they would feel threatened into brandishing their own."

Suddenly, something clicked in his mind.

"They're bringing out this Box as a second resort," Conrart snarled, furious, "After  _killing_  Yuuri didn't work."

All of a sudden the answer to many of his questions fell into place. The ill-equipped poachers attacking the red dragon so long ago hadn't been poachers at all, merely mercenaries in the wrong place at the wrong time. They had come equipped with weapons to defend against swords, not dragons.

_"You think we did not expect you?" The armored man spoke proudly, "That we did not know that Shin Makoku would send their best swordsman to protect the little secret that you hide within these woods?"_

The soldiers being chased by the golden dragon in the valley, too. They had been out of place – and they had zeroed in on the double-black the moment he had appeared. One of the mercenaries had slipped behind a distracted Yuuri, cracking the teen's head open against the ground with glee. Conrart still had nightmares about that morning, the blood all over the ground, his hands.

_"I got him, boys!" The mercenary bellowed, answered by several jubilant cries from the armored soldiers battling Conrad's rescuers behind him._

Murata and Gunter both looked troubled, Gunter clearly remembering their battle in the Valley as well.

"The question is," Murata murmured darkly, "How did  _they_  know about Yuuri before we did?"

No one had any answers for the Sage, which disturbed Conrart even more deeply.

"With this information in mind," Gwendal stipulated, breaking the silence, "I have decided to send Yuuri and Wolfram on a secret mission to retrieve the sword Morgif, and to locate the remaining Forbidden Boxes."

"I'm going with them!" Conrart said with a start, jumping to his feet. He'd be damned if he was going to let Yuuri and his brother get that close to enemy territory without him—

"Yes." Gwendal replied simply.

Conrart blanched somewhat, not excepting immediate compliance.

"Van Dar Via Island, where we suspect the sword to be located, is across the sea." Gwendal continued, the smallest smile teasing his lips at Conrart's reaction, "We have no official means of protecting Yuuri or Wolfram, since an official voyage so close to the Cimarrons would be a diplomatic nightmare and is consequentially out of the question. Therefore, you three will take on secret identities and infiltrate a human vessel. You will keep an eye on both of them. Yozak will arrange your means of return after you have retrieved Morgif."

The Great Sage stepped forward, frowning.

"Let us be frank, Your Majesty." Murata admonished, "Yuuri is no spy. Even disguised, he would stick out like a sore thumb. There are better means of retrieving the sword. And surely, you do not intend to keep the weapon's presence a secret once it is in your grasp. Surely its retrieval would only escalate tension?"

Throughout his speech, Murata advanced upon Gwendal's desk until the Sage's body was pressed against the wooden edge, leaving the very irritated Sage looming over the seated Prince Regent, who met Murata's gaze with an even stare.

"What is your true aim?" Murata questioned lightly, his voice laced with warning.

A small, triumphant smile slid onto Gwendal's lips.

"I can understand why one such as you wouldn't understand the significance of the sword," Gwendal practically chuckled, "seeing as how you have been  _out of the loop_ , so to speak, for such a long time."

Murata's face darkened dangerously and Gunter sputtered, jumping in before any real conflict could erupt between them.

"The last master of Morgif was the nineteenth Maoh, His Majesty Basilio von Rochefort, otherwise known as the 'King of Brutality'." Gunter interjected, "As his nickname suggests, he was quite… _over exuberant_  in his use of the sword. He made quite the name for himself, and for Morgif."

"There is a legend which suggests that anyone who attempted to touch his sword was attacked by a magic force." Gwendal mused, "Apparently, only the  _Maoh_  could wield it."

Understanding dawned on Murata's face and he backed away, suddenly looking thoughtful.

"So you see," Gwendal continued, "It is Yuuri, and Yuuri alone, who can retrieve Morgif - if he truly is to be the next Maoh."

"It is a test." The Sage stated calmly, eyes narrowing at Gwendal.

"One that will buy him much approval, should he pass." Gunter explained, smiling slightly. "If he wields the sword - whether or not the legend is true - the people will have no choice but to accept him and unite behind him."

"And the Boxes?" Murata pressed.

"The boy has a talent for sniffing them out, as he proved when he first arrived here." Gwendal shrugged, looking unfazed by Murata's more-intense-than-usual persona. "I will have my hands full wrestling away the Box from Big Cimarron's clutches, and it's about time the double-black earned his keep."

Conrart frowned at his brother, disapproving of Gwendal's callous regard of Yuuri. But Murata did not immediately disagree, instead looking disquieted.

"The Boxes are  _leaking_ , Your Majesty." The Sage murmured, the anger leaving him in a swift moment. Instead, he just looked haunted. "You understand what this means, don't you?"

The prince regent made no movement, merely watching Murata with an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"The evil within the Boxes is the magical embodiment of every negative emotion." Murata urged, "Bloodlust, hatred, despair,  _fear_. It taints everything it touches. And Yuuri possesses the ability to draw upon nearly limitless amounts of maryoku from the natural elements around him. By sending him defenseless into the sphere of a leaking Box, he will inevitably draw that darkness into himself, like a sponge. He will be  _poisoning himself_ , Your Majesty."

Conrart's chest went taught, his breath catching in his throat. His eyes shot to his brother, searching for any sign that the man was rethinking him plan. Any sign of remorse, regret, or concern. He found none.

"But you do not disagree with my decision." Gwendal stated, leaning back in his chair.

Murata seemed to look past Gwendal, out of the window over the man's shoulder. His glasses glinted, hiding his expression save for an unhappy frown.

"You are correct when you say that Yuuri has a talent for finding Boxes." Murata replied morosely. "And he does have some relative…resistance to their influence. He is, perhaps, the only one who can find the remaining two."

Gwendal nodded firmly, as if implying these were his thoughts exactly. "I understand this is a dangerous mission," the man said, the smugness in his voice replaced with an appeasing tone (for they all knew nothing could be done without the Sage's blessing), "which is why I will entrust his protection to my very own brothers. They are both capable men."

A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of Murata's mouth. "More like you want to ship them off to get them out of your hair, eh?"

"That is not so." Gwendal rejected simply, but said nothing more.

Conrart felt his heart stutter. That was practically the nicest thing Gwendal had ever said about him.

Murata heaved a heavy sigh, looking suddenly as if he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. Running his hand over his face, he glanced at Conrart and Gunter in turn, before returning his piercing black gaze to Gwendal.

"Is there anything else?"

"The official story will be that Wolfram, Conrad, and Yuuri are lying low at the Temple of Shinou." Gwendal answered lightly, as if he had nearly forgotten to mention. "I would entreat you to preserve this rumor."

"Very well." Murata answered, turning towards the door.

The Sage paused in front of Conrart, and the second prince felt suddenly a chill pass through him. He met Murata's gaze, doing so causing Conrart to feel the distinct impression that a weighty stone was on his chest.

"Take care of him." Murata said, the heaviness of his voice suggesting that he was  _not asking_.

"Of course." Conrart replied firmly, which seemed to appease the Great Sage.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen," Murata called as he swept out of the room, "There is an ancient dead King who I have  _many_  questions for."

* * *

**International Waters, South of Sonderguard**

The  _Farwander Freya_  was Cecille von Spitzweg's personal vessel, being one of many luxuries she had allowed herself when she had once been the twenty-sixth Maoh of Shin Makoku. The ship was sleek, beautiful. Three sturdy masts hoisted deep red sails into the air, the wind filling the crimson fabric also tickling the delicate golden wind chimes that hung from various beams and ropes. Celi had always found comfort in music, a quality shared by many Spitzwegs. She had been taught the harp as a young girl, and Stoffel the violin. It was this love for the fine arts that had carried her through her adulthood, and had probably attributed to many of her eccentricities. Yes, the ship was an embodiment of everything Celi loved: whimsicality, adventurousness, and beauty.

The tinkling of the chimes and the luxurious red sails, however, could do little to sate Celi's boredom.

The former Queen lounged on her chaise, watching the quiet tumult of the sea from the comfort of her cabin. There was little else for her to do after a week at sea but to relax. She could hear the quiet shuffling of feet on the deck above her, knowing the crew of Mazoku she had hired were hard at work.

In two days' time they would be docked at Small Cimarron, where she would begin a slow diplomatic journey east across four human nations – all of whom were upholding a tentative peace with Shin Makoku. It would be dangerous, since mazoku and human relations had always been strained; but the former-queen firmly reminded herself that she was doing this for her family and for her country.

Celi looked down at the letters clutched loosely in her fingers as they were pulled by the wind. Her eyes traced the letters absentmindedly, already knowing the words they held.

_Mother_ , the top letter read—

_I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing to inform you that all is well in Shin Makoku. I know you must have been concerned, leaving me in such a state – but please put your worries to rest. My reputation bears no lasting damage, and I am in fact finding my time at the Great Sage's Temple relaxing. Well, as relaxing as it can be with this double-black baboon scaring the daylights out of me every time I turn a corner._

Celi smiled affectionately, tracing her fingertips delicately over the surface of the parchment. It had been such a long time since her son had sounded so lively. Was it Conrad that had sparked such a change in him, or possibly-

_Honestly, I do not know what to think of Yuuri. He is crude and_ infuriating _, but I cannot deny he has natural leadership qualities. I cannot see him in your former position, however. The boy has not a fraction of your elegance._

_I hope your journey brings you to Small Cimarron safely. Please keep me updated on your travels._

_All my Love,_

_Wolfram_

Smiling broadly, Celi folded the letter and tucked it away in her breast pocket, deciding she would keep it close to her heart as she travelled. She loved all of her sons, but Wolfram always made her swell with maternal pride – he certainly resembled her most closely out of the three boys to be sure, both in his looks and his empathy.

Her grin faltered, however, as she glanced down to the second letter. It was from Stoffel. Against her will, her eyes began to read over the contents:

_Cecille—_

_My Congratulations on your eminent diplomatic journey. Mother and Father would be proud of your accomplishments – I, too, am gaining a new respect for all that you have done at the Capitol as I once again take up the yoke of Spitzweg representative. Do not worry yourself as you travel, for I will keep a close eye on your sons so that they do not find themselves in any trouble—_

Celi could read no further, tearing her eyes away with a distraught frown. Fury tugged at her belly. On the surface it appeared a normal letter, but Celi knew Stoffel. Reading the words, she could sense his condescendence, his gloating.

Coolly, she stood from her chaise and walked towards the balcony. She stepped onto the ledge, feeling the fresh sea wind pull at her golden hair. Taking a moment, she let the sounds and smells of the ocean calm her, but she did not take her eyes away from the paper clenched in her white-knuckled fist.

With great effort she drew upon her maryoku. She was no longer in demon territory, so summoning a small flame was currently the extent of her abilites – but she persisted. Fire licked at her fingers, and in a heartbeat the letter was up in flames. Though the wind carried away most of the burnt pieces of parchment, she did not let go until all that remained in her hand was a pile of ash. And even then, she opened her fingers and let all that remained of Stoffel's venomous words be eaten by the sea.

She did not linger on those thoughts or on the balcony, instead resolving that she would go above deck and check in with the crew. However, as she turned away from the ocean, there was a knock on her cabin door.

"Your Majesty," a male voice called from the other side of the door, "Reporting in."

Celi quickly pulled a finer robe over her casual garments, brow furrowing.

"Enter." She called, leaning against a bed post.

The ship's Captain and First Mate stepped into the room, flanked by two of Celi's own personal guards. A fifth man entered behind the group – he was Celi's escort, Fanbalen. All five men looked concerned.

"Your Majesty," The Captain began, "We've spotted some unusual activity to the east…"

"Unusual, Captain?" Celi quirked an eyebrow.

"It's a Pirate Ship, Cecille." Fanbalen interjected, correctly observing that Celi was not in the mood to dance around the issue until a euphemism could be presented. The Captain frowned unhappily, eyeing the former-Queen warily.

"Have they made a move towards us?" Celi asked, moving towards her desk. Quietly she seated herself, not taking her eyes off the Captain.

"Not yet, Your Majesty." The Captain explained, "Our ship flies the flag of Shin Makoku, no doubt uncommon in these parts. They probably don't know what to make of us."

"Even so, it's unusual that they wouldn't immediately take action," the First Mate rebutted, "Which is why this matter is somewhat urgent-"

The Captain glared sharply at his First Mate, apparently unhappy at the man speaking out of turn. The First Mate bit his tongue and fell silent. Celi did not have time for this.

"How so?" Celi urged, glancing between the two men perplexedly.

"They're hesitant because they're probably already near-full to capacity, and don't know if taking us on would be worth it." The First Mate explained bluntly.

"Near-full with what?"

"Treasure," Fanbalen cut in, "other loot, hostages."

" _Hostages?_ " Celi repeated, frowning deeply.

"It's not unusual, Cecille," Fanbalen replied, "that prisoners are captured and held for ransom, or sold into the slave trade."

Celi sighed unhappily, weary with conflict, but mind already made up. She stood, steeling herself as she locked eyes with the Captain. She felt Wolfram's letter heavy against her chest, fueling her protective instincts and guiding her desire to do the right thing. Celi would watch from the sidelines no longer.

"We're going after them."

"Your Majesty?"

"Fetch my armor." Celi commanded her guardsmen, who promptly bowed and left the room.

"Your Majesty!" The Captain demanded attention, voice laced with mild panic, "This course of action is not wise—"

"This is  _my_  ship, Captain," Celi cut him off coolly, her irritation from Stoffel's letter feeding her anger, "and where I will, it will go. Should you have a problem with my orders, your First Mate seems equally capable of carrying them out. Shall I have him promoted?"

She turned sharply, paying the man no more attention. Already she was advancing to her dresser to fetch the clothes she would need to wear under her armor. Finding her heavy tunic with ease, Celi glanced at the doorway to see that all but Fanbalen had left the room.

Her escort was smirking, watching her with amusement written on his face.

"Damn, I love a woman who knows how to order me around." The man teased, eyes twinkling.

"Then you're in the right place, Fan-Fan," Celi quipped, already pulling off her robes, "Now be a dear and fetch my whip."

* * *

The ocean wind pulled excitedly at the red sails of the  _Farwander Freya_ , as if sensing the oncoming conflict. Celi stood stoically at the bow of the ship, counting down the minutes until they would make contact with the pirates. They had hesitated somewhat, when Celi had pointed her ship directly at them and ordered full-speed ahead. But it seems pirates where never ones to turn down a challenge, and they had quickly redirected their ship in response – both vessels were now headed for each other in a deadly game of chicken.

Celi's light armor was a deep crimson, hugging her figure tightly while being designed not to restrict her movement. She was not a swordfighter, after all – her father had never trained her how to use a blade. This was all well and good – she preferred a faster, more flexible weapon, with a farther reach. Her whip hung loosely against her hip, ready to be unraveled at a moment's notice.

"This will be a tricky battle." Fanbalen commented from Celi's side, now equally armored and armed, "We cannot fire upon their ship for fear of harming any hostages, and pulling alongside to board them would risk having our ship blown to kingdom come by their cannon balls. In a head-on confrontation, they would have the advantage."

"Then we don't battle." Celi said, turning to Fanbalen, "Fan-Fan, raise the white flag."

Fanbalen looked stricken for a moment, but his doubt passed quickly. Though the man hadn't known Celi for very long, he had come to trust the former-queen's instincts. He nodded, light curls bouncing in the wind, before turning to the Captain standing a few feet behind the pair and issuing Celi's orders.

" _WHAT!_ " The Captain cried, and although Celi could not see his face, she could clearly imagine his distraught and panicked expression.

"Those are Her Majesty's orders." Fanbalen repeated sternly, a commanding edge to his voice, "For all of our sakes, you had batter comply."

For a few moments there was a tense silence, but finally the Captain seemed to give, and Celi listened quietly as her order was echoed and carried out. Then Fanbalen was once again at her side, a reassuring presence that had drawn Celi to him in the first place. The human lord grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips in a chaste kiss.

"I hope you know what you're doing." The man mumbled against her knuckles, so that she would be the only one to hear his troubles.

Celi smiled warmly at him, lifting her hand from his to caress his cheek.

"Compared to what I've endured, a few pirates are merely a trifle," Celi reassured, before lowering her voice to a whisper, "Besides, all men are the same."

Fanbalen raised an eyebrow curiously, but did not have time to respond before the Captain returned, face red and sweating profusely.

"The white flag has been raised, Your Majesty."

"Excellent." Celi beamed, clapping her hands together. "Now please, have our non-essential sailors assemble on the deck and put their weapons out of sight, but close-by. Should we resort to violence, they will need to be ready."

The Captain eyed Celi uncertainly. " _Should_  we resort to violence? Are we not going to free the hostages?"

"No," Celi replied and turned to face the oncoming enemy vessel, smiling mischievously, "We're going to  _buy_  them."

It was another half an hour before the two ships were close enough that Celi could make out people on the opposite deck. The pirates had not raised a white flag in acceptance of Celi's offer of truce, but they had not opened their gunports either. Celi took this as a sign that the pirates were curious about the Shin Makoku ship, and would at least speak with them before escalating or disengaging the situation. Celi was fine with this. She could work with curiosity.

"Ho!" Fanbalen called when the ships passed within shouting distance, an assortment of pirates gathering to the side of the ship to his call, "We wish to parley!"

Celi, concealing herself behind her guards for now, watched the pirates carefully, assessing the situation before deciding how she would act. The pirates were all armed to the teeth, outwardly suspicious of Celi's crew, and seemingly waiting for an excuse to fire upon them all. An older man separated himself from the throng of pirates, and pulled himself on top of the fo'c'sle to distinguish himself. The man had a neatly trimmed beard and an eyepatch – Celi could have laughed at his stereotypical image of a pirate.

"I am Captain Boldst, and I accept your parley – for now." Boldst sneered, resting his hand lightly on his sword. Celi wondered at his arrogance. Was she supposed to feel threatened by his sword from so far away? "What do you want?"

Fanbalen donned the mask of a haughty diplomat, climbing a few feet up the ropes of the ratlines before giving a deep bow.

"Good sir, my name is Fanbalen de Fer of Small Cimarron, though currently acting as guide to the Mistress of this ship. We wish to discuss—"

" _Mistress_?" Boldst interrupted with a sneer, "Where is she, then? I don't speak with underlings."

Fanbalen gave a show of appearing indignant, but turned to the Shin Makoku crew and gestured for Celi to approach.

The crew parted before her, giving her freedom to walk to the starboard side of the ship with all the dignity she could muster. Her two guards hovered protectively at her sides, and Fanbalen bowed dramatically as she reached the ship's railing. Boldst and his crew ogled her with little discretion, and Celi barely contained a sly grin.

"Who are you, then?" Boldst snapped, eyes not leaving Celi's face.

"Hold your tongue!" Fanbalen growled, playing along perfectly. "You know not to whom you speak—"

"—Enough, Lord de Fer." Celi cut him off coolly with a raised hand. "This is not how we effectively negotiate business deals." Celi turned to Boldst, giving a modest nod of her head in greetings. "My name is Cecille von Spitzweg, Ambassador and—"

"Former Queen of Shin Makoku!" Fanbalen finished proudly, before being silenced by another faux-glare from Celi.

Boldst stared darkly at Celi, but his eyes were thoughtful. Celi would bet he had never met a real queen before, despite having ransomed off several nobles.

"A queen, eh?" Boldst growled, "And a demon one at that. Tell me, Yer Majesty, why I shouldn't blow you all out of the water and ransack you for everything yer worth?"

There were several sneers directed at Celi and her crew after the statement, accompanied by jeering laughs. Celi narrowed her eyes at the pirates, numbering about twenty that she could see.

In a swift movement, she had lifted a hand and stripped away her leather glove. In another heartbeat, she had ignited her fist with flames. The jeers stopped; in fact, all sounds from the pirates ceased altogether.

"You would be ashes before you could reach your canons." Celi purred, letting the fire lick her fingers for a few more moments before extinguishing it with a flick of her wrist. This was a bluff, of course. Celi could scarcely maintain a spark, let alone an inferno. But what these pirates didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

Well, it would hurt them. But Celi would be fine.

"Demons can't use magic on human land." Boldst said in a remarkably grave voice, his face full of disbelief.

"Clearly, you are mistaken." Celi lied smoothly, wiggling her fingers, "And I would hardly call this 'land'." Not giving the man time to think about it too much, Celi continued, "In a few days' time, I will be making port at Small Cimarron. I am to be an Ambassador there – but they don't like us Mazoku in Small Cimarron very much. I feel I would receive a warmer welcome if I were to arrive with a retinue of 'rescued' hostages."

Boldst listened to her words, but his eyes were on Celi's hands. Clever man. The pirate Captain snarled, assuming a defensive position.

"So you expect me to just hand them over? How's a man supposed to make a living, then?"

Ah, so they did have hostages on board. Maybe not so clever.

Celi grinned, taking a sure step forward with arms spread entreatingly. Many pirates took a solid step back as she did so, telling her all she needed to know.

They were afraid of her.

She had won.

"I had hoped to make this a mutually beneficial affair, Captain Boldst. I have a trove of treasure on board my ship, intended to be used for diplomatic purposes. I'm sure you agree there could be no better use than this?" Celi batted her eyelashes enticingly, giving her best flirtatious grin. "Come, Captain. Name your price. I will double it."

* * *

Two hours later, an exuberant amount of gold had exchanged hands and the hostages had been ferried over to Celi's ship. The pirates refused to come within a boat's-length of Celi, and would only conduct business so long as she was below deck. Fan-Fan had put on an insulted front, but Celi - ever the ambassador - had graciously accepted the terms.

So Celi waited, and from her cabin listened silently to the quiet footsteps on the deck above her as they were boarded by over a dozen hostages. Fanbalen was no doubt settling in everyone excellently, so she took her time changing into a pair of extravagant robes before she departed her cabin.

The First Mate was waiting for her outside her rooms, and informed her that as soon as the last hostage had been put onto a ferry, the pirates had booked it towards the open sea. The man seemed somewhat disappointed that they had not dealt with the pirates in a more violent way.

"Sometimes the peaceful way is the better one." Celi had explained, before brushing past and up the stairs towards the poop deck.

Thirteen human men and women were seated upon cushions on the deck, having been wrapped in blankets and handed bread. One of the women clung to a child who appeared to be no older than fifteen – the only human of such age among the group. Overall the hostages were dressed in varying finery: Some of them wore hard leather tunics that had once been under armor, indicating them as guards. Most of the women wore dresses in the style of Svelera. The child – Celi could not distinguish their gender do to the grime covering their face and hair, was in a soot-covered tunic and breeches.

As Celi stepped forth from the lower decks, all eyes shot towards her. The Mazoku stood and bowed, while the humans watched her with a mixture of awe and fear.

"Welcome to the  _Farwander Freya_ ," Celi welcomed warmly, "I am Cecille von Spitzweg, Ambassador of Shin Makoku. Your journey until now has been perilous, but fear not – you are safe now."

The humans did not look comforted. Many of the women tittered uneasily, while the guards tensed unconsciously. Celi sighed inwardly – Shin Makoku still had a bad reputation among human countries, it seemed.

"Shin Makoku?" The child echoed warily, eyes wide.

Celi focused on the child - it was a girl, Celi could see now. Under the grime, her curly hair and skin were both dark. Her wide, chocolate-brown eyes and delicate face were what gave her away, however.

"Indeed." Celi smiled gently, kneeling so that she was eye-level with the young girl, "You are from Svelera, correct?"

The woman holding the girl was frowning in fear, her arms wrapped tightly around her ward's waist. She looked nothing like the girl, her hair blonde and skin pale. Her voice shook as she answered "Yes, we hail from Svelera…"

"No—," The girl snapped in annoyance, leaning away from the woman that held her.

"No?" Celi paused, suddenly confused.

"Greta, please-," the woman begged.

"You would see me assassinated by the Small Cimarron Imperial Court," the girl accused the woman in an accented voiced as she stood and stepped away from the woman, "You Svelerans are no ally of mine."

Turning to a bewildered Celi, the girl angrily wiped at the grime on her face to no avail. But the determination in her eyes ignited something in Celi instantaneously.

"My name is Margareta du Izura, Princess of Zorashia." The girl said proudly, with an elegance that betrayed her station, "Today you have saved my life once already, Lady Spitzweg, but I must ask you to save it again."

* * *

**Temple of Shinou, Shin Makoku**

Ulrike raced through the temple, dread thundering in her ears. Deeper and deeper into the sanctum she ran, barely registering the alarmed shouts of her guards that had been following her since she had emerged in a panic from her chambers.

_It cannot be, it CANNOT be…_

At the bottom of a plunging flight of stairs deep in the bowels of the shrine, the heavy doors to Shinou's sanctum stood ajar. Ulrike's sense of foreboding spiked and she barreled through the doors, not caring that the guards that tailed her were technically not allowed to enter.

What she saw cut her breath short. The sanctum was in disarray, pieces of parchment scattered across the chamber. Alarmingly, the stone floor around the coffin containing Shinou's body was cracked and brittle. Traces of maryoku clung to the walls, and perhaps most concerning, smears of blood adorned the ground and walls of the large chamber.

"Your Eminence…?" Ulrike called out, but she knew she would get no answer. In despair, she sunk to the floor.

She didn't know how it had happened – one moment, a large power underneath the temple had flared, and just as suddenly vanished, along with the presence of one Murata Ken.

As she hit the floor, something crunched under her knee. Startled, Ulrike lifted her knee, and gasped at the sight of Murata's glasses in pieces on the stone.

Yes, one thing was certain. Something terrible had happened in this chamber. And now, the Great Sage was gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original ffnet Note:
> 
> "Things are picking up! Hearts are being broken! Questions are being answered!
> 
> I hope my portrayal of Celi wasn't too bad, since I really like her character and think it needs more love. ;) "

**Author's Note:**

> Original ffnet Note: 
> 
> I based this story on a dream I had a while ago, though I'm pretty sure that dream drew off of Princess Mononoke in some way. And maybe a little Tarzan. Anyways, I just wanted to write story about Yuuri being crazy and growling at people all the time, maybe even biting a few deserving bishounens. *wink wink* I promise you get to see Conrad and (hopefully) a lot of other characters next chapter. Sorry if you thought this chapter was a little bizarre - I wanted to establish how Yuuri got there and how he became the way he is.
> 
> See you guys next chapter!


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